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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677702">Élivágar (Alligatorfuckhose Afterdark Reconstruction)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alligatorfuckhouse92/pseuds/alligatorfuckhouse92'>alligatorfuckhouse92</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Femslash February | In Bloom 2021 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Widow (Movie 2020), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Scarlet Witch (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), WandaVision (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Natasha Romanov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion &amp; Lore, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Awesome Wanda Maximoff, Blood and Injury, Catholic Wanda Maximoff, Dark Natasha Romanov, Don't Like Don't Read, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knotting, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov is So Done, Natasha is an idiot sometimes, Omega Wanda Maximoff, Porn with Feelings, Possesive Natasha Romanov, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Romance, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Team as Family, Teasing, The Avengers are Natasha's family, Viking Natasha Romanov, Violence, WANDANAT - FREEFORM, Wanda Knows That, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, minor blackhill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:02:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alligatorfuckhouse92/pseuds/alligatorfuckhouse92</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An unpredictable mission forces Natasha to face her feelings for a certain witch. And Wanda can see that underneath all that asshole troll mask lurks a protective angel sent from heaven.</p><p>OR</p><p> </p><p>A Viking Wandanat AU That No One Asked but I re-write it and distorted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner &amp; Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner/Betty Ross, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Jack Rollins &amp; Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov, Maria Hill &amp; Natasha Romanov, Maria Hill &amp; Wanda Maximoff, Minor Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov - Relationship, Natasha Romanov &amp; Betty Ross, Natasha Romanov &amp; Tony Stark, Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Pepper Potts &amp; Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker &amp; Wanda Maximoff &amp; Brock Rumlow, Wanda Maximoff &amp; Agnes, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Femslash February | In Bloom 2021 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sól</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisChen2213/gifts">ChrisChen2213</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/wumingxiaopengyou/gifts">wumingxiaopengyou</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal/gifts">ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Phase two of in bloom is here. </p><p>• First of all, as the title says, this fanfic is a reconstruction of Sandra Hill 'the bewitched Viking. that means there will be some dark changes and twists in the plot and of course Wanda and Natasha as main protagonists.</p><p>• I just do this for fun and have a good time distorting the original story lines. </p><p>• The characters and the story belongs to their respective creators. The mistakes and nonsense words are all mine.</p><p>• Élivágar means Ice Waves and it is the name of the rivers that filled the primordial void (Ginnungagap) at the beginning of the world.</p><p>• I want dedicated this one to a three wandanat lovers, ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal, ChrisChen2213 and wumingxiaopengyou this is for you guys hope you like it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>Birka, 952 A.D</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"The king's manroot took a right turn." The messenger sat across from the red-haired alpha.</p><p> </p><p>"What? What root? " Blinking with confusion, Natasha Romanovdóttir lifted her head off the tavern table and drunk she was, stared at Ward, the royal messenger.</p><p> </p><p>"And he requires your services to correcting the ... um, problem." The messenger said awkwardly.</p><p> </p><p>"Me? Do my ears plays me false?” With a brain that felt like a mashed turnip itself, Natasha ran her hand over her wild red curls and wondered how her cousin's messenger, King Aksel, had tracked her to Birka. And why, for the love of Freyja,  would she go to would the botherment of the grueling trek from the far northern reaches of Trondelag to the bustling market town on the island of Bjorko in Lake Malar? To tell him about… vegetables? Blody Hell! Natasha should be offended. “You are in front of a prominent warrior and a trader in precious amber. Since when have I become a farmsteader with knowledge of roots? "</p><p> </p><p>Ward's jaw dropped at Natasha's ferocious overreaction. The boy immediately he clicked it shut and with a snarl of impatience tried again. "The king's cock has taken a right turn."</p><p> </p><p>“His rooster? Natasha frowned, she was becoming more and more confused. First vegetables, now poultry. Next this lackwit would be asking him for help in drying lutefisk.</p><p> </p><p>“Not that rooster.” Ward snorted grumpily, clearly disgusted by Natasha's mead-sodden state. In truth, Natasha hardly ever drink to excess. Though she seemed to have a light-hearted nature, she hated any lack of self-control. Of course, Natasha had a reason to celebrate, she had just returned from a successful trip to the Baltic lands, where her workers had harvested a crop of prized amber for her trading ventures. </p><p> </p><p>Still, this heavy dark cloud of depression had been hanging over her for several days. No doubt it was the boredom of repeating the same routine every day.<em> "Fight with brave heart honoring Odin and take a wench after the battle."</em> That had been her life’s motto for a long time "or at least, in the beginning, but for some reason those pleasures were fading.</p><p> </p><p>After having seen thirty-one winters, Natasha had garnered more wealth than she could ever use in a long lifetime. Years ago she had lost count of how many Omegas she’d bedded, but now she no longer felt the same excitement and euphoria that she used to feel at the sight of a wench approaching her.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Then there was the matter about fighting "a well-known pastime of the Vikings." She had fought in the battles of various kingdoms like a wild and untamed Berserker since she was sixteen winters, just like her father Alexei and her mentor Fury <em>'may his soul rest in Valhalla.'</em></p><p> </p><p>But lately Natasha found herself questioning of late the motives of  leaders who called for the rash spilling of blood from their underlings. Well, there was the part about a Viking. Natasha had seen adventures in all of her trading, Viking voyages. </p><p><br/>She had visited and revisited, explored and discovered, even conquered, from the neighboring Rus lands to Iceland, from the Baltic Sea to the English Channel. Natasha deliberately never stayed in the same place for long. It was not good for a woman in her position to form roots. </p><p> </p><p>What else was there to draw a Alpha’s jaded interest? What challenges that she had not already mastered? What new wild adventures awaited her? Natasha sighed deeply.</p><p> </p><p>“By your leave, Natasha Romanovdóttir, tis the king's other cock I refer to.” Ward had been rambling while Natasha's thoughts wandered around. Suddenly, the messenger's words made sense as Ward rose and cupped his crotch. Natasha's green eyes widened with understanding. <em>Manroot. Cock. Oh! A Cock! </em></p><p> </p><p>She glanced at the junction of her thighs and winced with Alpha empathy. “Oh, I see. The king's dick did what? " Natasha cleared her throat as she asked and saw the messenger sit down.</p><p> </p><p>“Made a right turn. Halfway down.” Ward downed a mug of beer and then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He cearly relieved that Natasha finally understood her message. "It looks like a flag at half mast, it does.”</p><p> </p><p>“And he wants me to fix it? Natasha gasped with horror.</p><p> </p><p>"Not you ... Precisely." Ward shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>"C'mon start to talk!" Natasha shot the insolent guy a glance. "Who precisely?"</p><p> </p><p>The tone in her icy voice must have caught the silly boy's attention. Looking at the redhead and shifting nervously in his seat, Ward replied, "Um, the witch."</p><p> </p><p>By Odin's Blood!” Getting a concrete answer from this idiot messenger was difficult like lifting Thor's mjolnir. "Just any witch?" Natasha asked, looking with bored eyes at the messenger.</p><p> </p><p>"No. She is a very particular one. " The messenger shifted uncomfortably under Natasha's scrutiny. The nervous boy raised his eyes to the sky and clear his throat.</p><p> </p><p>"Well that is clear as fjord fog on a rainy day." If Natasha weren't so tired, she would shake this brainless idiot until his teeth fell out for so such discourtesy.</p><p><br/>"The witch with the Virgin's Veil." Ward let out an exasperated breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! It was so hard to start from there, boy. " Natasha made a low growling sound and Ward, with belated wisdom, hurried to explain. “The witch's name is Wanda… Lady Wanda Maximoff of Northumbria. She is the one who put the curse on the Aksel manpart. All because King Aksel and his soldiers had the misfortune to stop at St Beatrice Abbey in Britain  one day last year. The abbey is home to a nunnery where Lady Wanda was seeking for a time from her bumbling cousins, Lord Rumlow and Lord Jack.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think your king is innocent." Natasha giggled as she wondered what would constitute"bumbling" in the mind of this bumbling and incompetent idiot. But she did not dare to ask and even less to listen to another long-winded speech. Instead, she focused on Ward's other words. “Stopped by? Aksel stopped by a nunnery? I would bet he went to rape and pillaging.”</p><p> </p><p>"And what if we did? “In a lapse of stupidity, Ward responded irritably, revealing his part in the marauding band of soldiers. “Tis neither here nor there whether we were a-plundering or not. I daresay you’ve done a fair share of plundering in your day, too. At issue here is the fact the witch waved a relic in the King Aksel's face ... a blue veil, which, according to her, belonged to the Blessed Virgin Mary. " Ward paused and then explained, as if Natasha were an idiot. "The Virgin Mary is the mother of the Christian God and ..."</p><p> </p><p>“I know who the Virgin Mary is. Idiot! Natasha clenched her fists again to refrain herself from strangling the fool.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, as I was saying… that's when Lady Wanda cursed Aksel, she threatened him saying ...<em> ‘Curse you, heathen! May your  manpart fall off if you do this evil deed!’</em> Well, his manpart didn’t fall off … , at least, not yet. But it took a turn to the right.” Ward took a deep breath after the long explanation.</p><p> </p><p>"And? Natasha asked showing a small smile on her lips. "What has that to do with me?"</p><p> </p><p>"The king wants you to bring the witch back and her magic veil to Trondelag to remove bloody the curse."</p><p> </p><p>" Is that all? Natasha commented. But all she thought was. A Saxon, Aksel expects me to stop in the midst of my trading voyage, go to Britain for the wench, who obviously won't be willing, take her back to Norway, by way of Hedeby, where I must needs drop off  the last of my trading goods, and then go home to Novgorod. And all this before the cold winter freezes everything. Hah! Aksel ever was an arrogant idiot jerk since we were little children. But this time he has gone too far. "Nah! I don't think I want to help Aksel. "</p><p> </p><p>" Nah!? You dare say 'Nah’ to your liege lord? Where is your Norse loyalty? " Ward asked in an offended and accusing voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen to me cause I am not going to repeat.” Natasha tensed feeling offended and hissed. “Aksel is no more liege lord than the King of Wessex, Edred. You know well and good that the Northern Alpha’s pledge allegiance to a particular leader, not a nation. My uncle, Ivan, is all- king of Norway, and to him alone do I pay homage. " She hissed and clenched the fists until her knuckles turned white.  "Further, it was Ivan Romanovson, then fostering in King Athelstan's court in Britain and having seen only fifteen winters—who went back to Norway on King Harald Fairhair's death and returned to all bonders the odal-rights to their land. My Novgorod title was reaffirmed to me by Ivan and will remain free and clear in my family name for posterity.” Natasha felt a tug of pain in her heart at the mere mention of Novgorod. Her family resided there. She had to admit to herself that Novgorod mattered more to her in than anything. And that was really dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>Ward's face burned with shame, but still he blundered on, "The king thought you might be reluctant to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>" Oh yeah? He did, did he?" Natasha arched an eyebrow and then laughed. "The idiot know me so well."</p><p> </p><p>"He said to tell you that you could have Syrio if you would do him this favor." Ward said kindly hoping not to upset the redhead Alpha in front of him further.</p><p> </p><p>“Would Aksel give me his precious horse?” Natasha straightened up and asked with interest as she held her beer. "You mean the stallion that was gifted to him by that Saracen chieftain?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah.” Ward nodded emphatically. “Exactly. That same black demon with white markings on his hooves. That be the horse. "</p><p> </p><p>"Hmmm" Natasha hummed despite her doubts. Still, she refused. “Nope. I'm not interested in Aksel's proposal. I have too much to do before I return to Novgorod for the winter. "</p><p> </p><p>“In that case, King Aksel instructed me to offer you the slave, Nadia, as well. The one with the tiny silver bells on her ankles and the two silver bells hanging from the pierced rings in hers  uh … ” Ward cupped his hands in front of his chest  to indicate Nadia's most notorious attributes.</p><p> </p><p>"Hmmm" Natasha hummed thinking about the offer again, but not because of the slave, who Natasha knew was very attractive. Truth be told, the horse caught her attention the most. But in the end she repeated her earlier refusal. "Nu huh, I have no time."</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't want to tell you this" Ward wrung his hands nervously trying desperately to dissuade this woman. "Well um, tell me one thing. You're not the type of Alpha who is won’t to kill the messenger for with bad news, right? "</p><p> </p><p>"Speak!, you bastard, or I'll cut off your head and send it to Aksel." Natasha growled menacingly and tensed alertly, ready to carry out the threat and rip this idiot's head off at the slightest provocation.</p><p> </p><p>"It's Peter, the healer.” The messenger screeched. "Aksel holds him as a friendly hostage until you bring the witch to him." Ward's face went pale praying to the gods that this Alpha won't rip his head off.</p><p> </p><p>" What!? Natasha roared and immediately got up from her seat. “How did Peter end up in Trondelag? I thought he was in the Arab lands. And what in the bloody hell is a "friendly hostage?" “Peter was a young kid in his early twenties who had been studying medicine for six winters in the Arab lands, where the leading healers practiced their arts. He was the son of Natasha's half-sister, Pepper, and her husband Tony, who resided in Jorvik. Peter was part of her family to her, her lovely nephew.</p><p> </p><p>“ friendly hostage means that Peter will not take any harm. He simply cannot leave Aksel's court. " Ward squirmed under the force of those intense cold green eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Holy Odin!." Natasha's throat rumbled with a low growl of indignation. "I'm going to kick Aksel's ass when I see it."</p><p> </p><p>“Its not as bad as it seems." Ward flinched at her apparent anger and hastily concluded, "It all comes back to the witch and your mission to capture her."</p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, Natasha stood up and grabbed Ward by his neck leaning him across the table toward her, swinging the beer mugs from side to side. The boy looked like he was going to wet his braies at how scared he was.</p><p> </p><p>"Start from the beginning…" Natasha hissed coldly in the messenger's face before releasing him. "And don't omit any details." She settled in to hear what she hoped wasn't too long a tale. Especially since her head was being pounding like Thor's mighty hammer, Mjolnir. Especially Natasha wanted to end the nonsensical speech of this messenger. She urgently needed a bath to get rid herself of the fleas that infested her clothes and her wolf fur after a long sea voyage. In her angry state of  she saw how her good friend Bucky raised his equally drunk head from the table next to her and grinned, asking in a low voice. "A witch hunt?"</p><p> </p><p>Bucky had good reason to enjoy the possibility of a witchhunt. He was extraordinarily handsome<em> (second only to Natasha, in Natasha's not so humble opinion)</em>, he wore a beard and long brown hair in the form of intertwined braids. Bucky trimmed his mustache daily, as if it were a work of art. But Bucky's exaggerated vanity had been struck two winters ago ... by a witch, no less, a Scottish witch who had dyed a jagged  blue line of Scottish warriors across the middle of Bucky's face, while Bucky slept, from hairline to chin. Until now, Bucky had been unable to remove the blue color from his skin, or to find the wily witch.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, Bucky would be encouraged her to undertake Aksel’s witchly the mission. Natasha wouldn't object. Her friend knew how to encourage her to take on big challenges. Then things got worse.</p><p> </p><p>Before Ward could begin to talk, Clint "the Falcon", Natasha's personal skald and best friend. “For mercy on Odin! sat down next to her with a smug smile. Natasha couldn't suppress the groan of annoyance that escaped her lips. What she least she needed at this moment was a skald, especially a skald as loud as a small goat.</p><p> </p><p>But what could she do when Clint saved her life in battle? Natasha felt compelled to offer a job to her friend, who retired when he lost an eye in the battle of Ripon five years ago. Until now, Clint had tried  and failed to be a cook, blacksmith, and armorer at one of Natasha's household. In the end, the occupants of the house had revealed themselves at the unpalatable food, the burned-down smithy, and the broken swords.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha glanced at Clint and then looked at him again. “Oh no! " Too late she realized that Clint had the dreamy expression on his face that foreshadowed that he was inspired. Too late to get away or stop him now. “Oh that merits a new saga”</p><p> </p><p>"Hear one and all, this is the saga of <em>Natasha The Raven.”</em> Clint began to say with a bombastic voice. That was the way all his sagas began. Unfortunately, if Natasha was sincere, that opening line was the best part of them.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky's lips quirked up with glee. With one hand over his mouth he murmured to Natasha in a low voice, "<em>Hverfugl synger med sitt nebb /</em> Every bird sings with its beak."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh Odin have mercy on us!" Natasha murmured in response. "Every bird may very well sing with its own voice, but Clint's bird song is the most unmelodious I've ever heard, Bucky."</p><p> </p><p>Unaware of the opinions of his friends, Clint adjusted the black patch over his missing eye and took a stylus in his hand. Squinting through his good eye, he began carefully wrote runic symbols on the wax tablet in front of him. It was not normal for skalds to write down sagas, but Clint was thick and often forgot the words to the tales he had composed. “I think a good title for this one would be Natasha and the Crooked Cock. Let's see, how should I start? Hmmm. " Clint looked up at the sky wondering how to proceed before the inspiration escaped him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In the land of the Saxons,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>an evil witch did flying.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>To Aksel proud duckling.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She set her evil eye.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Now alas and alack.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His furry pet and can't no longer.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Make quack.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Not with his mate.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Can fly straight.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>“How does it sound so far?” Clint asked hopefully, pausing and looking excitedly at Bucky and Natasha.</p><p> </p><p>"Absolutely magnificent!" Natasha said, patting Clint on the shoulder. If this was another skald she wouldn't last screaming <em>HORRIBLE!</em> But this is Clint and she didn't have the heart to break Clint’s illusions. Natasha barely suppressed a grimace of disgust and smiled instead of her. I hope my brother Bruce never gets to hear this one.</p><p> </p><p>He will fall over laughing, almost as much as he did over the ‘Natasha and Reluctant Maiden' saga that Clint concocted last winter. For whatever reason, Clint's overlong tales almost always make Natasha look like an idiot. And best Aksel does not hear of  Clint enhancing his wordfame by referring to his manpart as a duckling, or there will be bloodshed.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Natasha scratched her cheek and wondered idly if she smelled as bad as her companions. Vikings were famous for their meticulous natures, unlike those piggish Saxon and Franks, who bathed once a season. Natasha wrinkled her nose at the smell. Ugh, she needs a hot bath soon.</p><p> </p><p>"How do you spell duckling?" Clint whispered.</p><p> </p><p>"C-O-C-K" Natasha replied dryly. She’ll let Clint figure how to translate the word into  futhark alphabet. That should take a goodly amount of time. She turned to Ward. "And you start talking" she addressed him with a wave of her hand. "I doubt me I will like your report from King Aksel, do not leave out even the smallest detail."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, let me explain everything ..." the messenger opened his mouth and began his speech while Natasha and Bucky remained without making a sound to avoid distracting Ward. After forever when Ward finally finished, Natasha had a sudden realization… one that made her smile, overshadowing her anger that lingered beneath the surface over Aksel unkind treatment of Peter. She is not so bored now. "Guys!!" Natasha drank the rest of her beer while she looked at Bucky and then Clint, before announcing. "It seems we are going on a witch hunt."</p><p><br/>Bucky laughed and Clint looked at the redhead with raised eyebrows. "Prepare everything we need for the voyage. We leave tomorrow when the goddess Sòl brings the light over the horizon." Said Natasha with a smile pointed to her ship in the harbor.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Seidkona</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vikings like her were meant to sail the wild seas, not to travel long distances over bumpy roads, on horses, till their arses were bruised and their moods riled.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>North Yorkshire, Six Weeks Later.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> “The Vikings are coming! The Vikings are coming! " The loud maid screamed frantically running down the hill, dodging or tripping over the sheep that crossed her path. "Lady Wanda! Lady Wanda! " An innocent and playful sheepdog approached the maid and began circling her as she barked and wagged the tail with joy.</p><p> </p><p>"Get out of my way, you! ugh beast!." The maid screamed and cursed to get rid of the terrible furry beast that was blocking her way. "Lady Wanda! The Vikings are coming! The Vikings are coming! " It seems that her high-pitched screams managed to scare the animal away because the dog let out a whimper and ran off to chase a few sheep that got separated from the herd.</p><p> </p><p>Whether it be her crying sheep or the barking sheepdog or her shrieking, sheeplike maid Agnes, who was approaching her with wild eyes, and the dire warning of yet another North Alphas sighting, Lady Wanda had more than enough problems for one day.</p><p> </p><p>A most unladylike phrase escaped her lips. One that had something to do with an unspeakable exercise the Vikings, sheep and dog could do for themselves, or to each other, for all she cared. " Oh Bloody Hell. " That was an expression she had heard from some soldiers use on more than one occasion when they were ready to explode with a bad temper. And Wanda was in a very bad explosive temper at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>Gripping a tree root with one hand, Wanda was hanging into a shallow, gully-infested with briars, trying to free one of her sheep, Sheba, from the sharp thorns with the crook of her long staff. Her flea sheepdog, inappropriately named Bella, was barking in the distance as she attempted to lead a small flock of stray sheep back to the stone-fenced pastures of the lower dales.</p><p> </p><p>Continuing to bleat his yearning nonstop was David, a lusty, overanxious ram of a curly-horned breed almost non-existent outside of Córdoba<em> (a bridge gift from her last marriage. Ironically)</em>, Sheba was in heat and she was yearning mightily for the mating that would produce new lambs for Wanda’s prosperous flock when it arrived spring, but still the dumb female felt the need to play catch-me-if-you-will with the ram David. That’s when the coy Sheba had landed herself in the briar patch and with Wanda trying to get her out of there.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda supposed not all that different from Alphas and Omegas in their mating rituals.</p><p> </p><p>“The Vikings are coming! The Vikings are coming! " Agnes's screams grew louder, accompanied by barking and bleating.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Holy Mary. Now What?" Wanda sighed and stopped cutting the branches caught in Sheba's matted fur, glanced over her shoulder and groaned as she saw her kitchen maid rushing towards her over the heather-blanketed flatlands with her headrail blowing in the wind and brown homespun kirtle hiked practically to her knees. Agnes always thought Vikings were coming, no matter if it was mere wayfarers approaching Graycote Manor from the old Roman road or straying cows from the pastures of Bellard Castle, five miles to the east.</p><p> </p><p>In truth, Alpha warriors from the North had been coming into Britain in droves this last year as the news spread of Eric Bloodaxe’s campaign to expel King Olaf Sigtryggsson and regain the control of Northumbrian crown. Recently he had achieved that goal, thanks to the efforts of Archbishop Wulfstan and members of the Norse nobility residing in the northern of Britain.</p><p> </p><p>Agnes's fears had started last year, when she accompanied Wanda to the nunnery at St. Beatrice’s Abbey. Whilst there, they’d had the misfortune to witness a frustrated Viking attack on the poor nuns. Wanda had been hiding out at the convent from her cousins, Brock and Jack, who had come up with yet another marriage project for her: Lord Ecgfrith of Upper Mercia, a doddering old man with one foot in the grave. Actually Ecgfrith had passed away before Brock and Jack even found Wanda at the nunnery. What a birching she'd received for her willfulness! Even though she had only seen twenty-two winters, Wanda had been married and widowed three times since she was fifteen, all to satisfy the greedy needs of her cousins.</p><p> </p><p><br/>And it would seem her problems were unending, for just yestermorn she’d received a missive from her wool agent in Jorvik informing her that Brock and Jack had been boasting in the market town negotiating a new marriage contract that carried the seal of their third cousin, King Edred (a<em> contract for matrimony between their cousin, Lady Wanda of Graycote Manor and Lord Cedric of Wessex.)</em> The sickly king had been plagued by troubles since his reign six years past. If the Vikings weren’t stirring unrest in the north, his own noblemen <em>(not least of whom her own cousins)</em> were constantly nagging at him for favors.<br/>It mattered not to her cousins that the short, corpulent Cedric was as wide as he was tall. He weighed almost as much as a horse and was old enough to be his great-grandsire. The only important thing to Brock and Jack would be the estates Cedric owned, which would be ceded to a wife, and therefore to them as guardians, upon his death.</p><p> </p><p>Well, Wanda couldn't refuse the kings command, but if she never actually received the royal deemed lacking in proper loyalty? For that reason, she intended to be long gone, into a new temporary hiding place, before Brock and Jack's arrival, which she estimated to be two days hence, giving Wanda temporary respite from her cousins evil machinations. </p><p> </p><p>"Come, Agnes" Wanda held out her hand and pleaded now the maid drew. “Help me free Sheba."</p><p> </p><p>"But ... but ..." Agnes protested breathlessly, almost pleading. "The Vikings are coming."</p><p> </p><p>“And if they are? What is it to us? We have no riches from them to pillage, or apparent ones. “Wanda willingly given up  all estates deeded to her by dead husbands, except for this miserable manor in far north of Britain, precisely so that she would garner attention from her only remaining family. The fact that prospered with her thriving wool trade went unnoticed by her abusive cousins, since she plowed all the profits back into the sheep folds and hidden chests. Her biggest dream was that one day  she would just be left  alone.</p><p> </p><p>"But they could rape us!" Agnes exclaimed in a horrified whisper. "We must escape, Lady Wanda."</p><p> </p><p>Wanda laughed at that. They would have to be pitiful Vikings indeed to feel the inclination to toss the aging Agnes’s robes over the tights. And Wanda had known well and good from an early age, that she was not attractive to Alphas. She was always an unattractive introvert girl with her brown hair and freckles covering all ov her cheeks and her white skin and slim body. Wanda held no appeal for the average Alpha ... and the Vikings, renowned for their good looks, were reputed to be most peculiar tastes when it came to Omegas.</p><p> </p><p>“Breathe Agnes.” Wanda shook her head laughing and added in a kindly tone. “We are in more danger of being raped by David than any Viking will, if we do not soon free his beloved lady from these brambles. Come on help me with this. "</p><p> </p><p>Agnes grunted and leaned forward to help Wanda, but she muttered under her breath a famous Anglo-Saxon refrain. “Oh Lord, please protect us from the fury of the North Alphas. Holy Virgin Mary Protect us from that terrible threat. "</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha was furious. It had taken her two weeks to complete her trading ventures in Birka, along with some repairs on her ship before sailing for British soil. Now, for the past four weeks "twenty-eight bloody days wasted" she and Bucky and Clint had been riding from the one end of the British isle to the other searching for the elusive witch. Vikings like her were meant to sail the wild seas, not to travel long distances over bumpy roads, on horses, till their arses were bruised and their moods riled.</p><p> </p><p>And it was all the fault of the Lady Wanda's fault. Rather, the "<em>Lady Witch</em>", Natasha corrected herself. That witch turned out to be an interesting lady. The three times widow sorceress<em> (and didn’t that nobody was suspected that her three husbands were happenstance of three conveniently  dead spouses provoke a thinking man’s suspicion)</em> Lady Witch owned a dozen prosperous and wealthy estates across this hellish island, all managed by her cousins, the clumsy brothers to whom Ward had told her about. But she chose to live in a poor holding in the bleak, far northern Northumbria, almost up to the Scottish borders … no doubt to have privacy while practicing her pagan rites, Natasha concluded.</p><p> </p><p>Well, the search was almost over. When they'd stopped at Graycote Manor a short time ago, a Castilian informed Natasha that the Lady Wanda was in the hills tending her sheep. With that said, the excitement of starting the hunt flooded Natasha's chest.</p><p> </p><p><em>Tending? Was she engaged in some black magic ritual that involved animal sacrifice or such?</em> Natasha pondered imagining what she would see when they entered Lady Witch's lands.</p><p> </p><p>The strangest thing was the timber and stone keep, with its crumbling ramparts and  stockades, was kept neat, but sorely out of date. At the same time, vast fields of cut hay lay there drying out for when winter feed. A dozen cows lowed in a  nearby byre waiting to be milked. Piles of turnips, carrots, cabbages, and other foods items rolled by in heavy carts. It was a poorly estate, overflowing with food. How peculiar! Natasha carefully looked around the estate. Well, whatever. She didn't care if the witch was rich or poor. Soon her journey would end and Lady Wanda would pay for all the troubles she had put her to and only when the mission is over will Natasha be able to return to Novgorod.</p><p> </p><p>"We must be careful, Natasha." Bucky warned her with that overprotective brother voice that he used with her.</p><p> </p><p>The three of them rode side by side on horseback and Bucky's dog in front of them, following the castellan’s directions. The Lady Wanda’s stupid Castellan <em>(</em>leader<em> of a misaligned band of soldiers)</em> had not even thought about the safety of her mistress when he sent three Vikings experienced in the art of war after her.</p><p> </p><p>"I am loath to ask you …" Natasha asked looking at the brunette over her shoulder. “But why?”</p><p> </p><p>"We don't know if this witch is a solitary or in a coven." Bucky responded suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha just nodded, even though she didn't have a great deal of knowledge about witchcraft, solitary or otherwise. She would have to bow to Bucky's greater wisdom in that regard.</p><p> </p><p>"No doubt, the witch will  take on a most beauteous countenance to draw us under her spell." Bucky continued with the warning, alerting his friends.</p><p> </p><p>" Do you think so?" Natasha smirked a bit and holding the reins in her palms, looking at the road ahead.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, that's what happened to me, I warrant. Why else would I have let my guard down in the presence of a witch in a strange country? " Bucky playfully slapped the redhead on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Um. I don’t know. Maybe because the Scottish wench spread her legs for you, that's why ”Natasha narrowed her eyes and laughed.</p><p> </p><p>“And because you are lustful Alpha. Because you think with your head between your legs and not with your head on your shoulders. " Clint added and snorted in amusement, joining Natasha's giggles.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" Bucky lifted his chin with affront, calling attention to the tinted blue line down the middle of his face, proof of his stupid entanglement with that Scottish witch.</p><p> </p><p>“Since we are so close to Scotland, why don't you go in search of the witch? Maybe you can get rid yourself of her mark once and for all. " Natasha said in a laughing voice as she wiped away her tears of joy.</p><p> </p><p>“I've been looking for her all last year with no results. I refuse to winter my ass frozen in the highlands just to search for her. Next summer I will find her or die trying. " Bucky replied with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>"I would like to know if the old tales are true about witches having a tail they hide beneath their robes" Clint commented absently. "It is said that the only way they can get rid of the long appendix is by marrying a Alpha."</p><p> </p><p>"See, Bird Brain knows what I mean." Bucky argued to Natasha, pointing to Clint “I was right about witches taking on a tempting shape. It makes sense that they would need to be beautiful if they want to snare an Alpha and thus lose their tails. "</p><p> </p><p>"Gentlemen, you two are pair of immature kids, believing anything." Natasha booed taunting those two. “All I know is that I want to be the one to light the fire  under that particular witch … once King Aksel is done with her, that’s it. Then, if I never see English land or an English wench again, it will be enough for me. "</p><p> </p><p>"There she is" said an excited Bucky pointed at the young brunette in the distance. There was a long silence followed. Finally, Natasha snorted in disgust and said out loud what they were all thinking: "So much for the theory of the beautiful witches goes!" her eyes looked at the witch, there was nothing exceptional about Lady Witch in Natasha's personal opinion. Just a skinny and undernourished Omega.</p><p> </p><p>“I think this calls for a saga.” Clint was already pulling his wax tablet from a saddlebag, muttering something like “Natasha The Raven and The Witch”. Then he started saying his usual introduction. " Hear one and all, this is the saga of <em>Natasha "The Raven" ...</em></p><p> </p><p>“How would you like a stylus  up your arse?” Natasha growled in Clint's direction. "I can make it happen, Bird Brain!”</p><p> </p><p>"I cannot stop when I have been blessed by Bragi." Clint shrugged, ignoring Natasha and started on verses from her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There were scars</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>but not weapons.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wild marks.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Spilled in grains by</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>the witch's face</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>to catch the wary raven.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>even if she was the granddaughter.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>of the great king Harald Fairhair.</em>
</p><p><br/> </p><p>“Oh for the love of Freya! I have heard of those brands before. But this is the first time I have seen them. The healers at Miklagard say those marks bode ill.” Bucky said in admiration when he saw the strange marks on the witch's face. Natasha had never seen marks like that before.</p><p> </p><p>“What are those marks that adorn her face? Clint shuddered into the distance. Every part of the woman's exposed skin was covered with freckles and she was undoubtedly freckled too beneath her gray robe. Her headrail and wimple, which would normally cover the hair of a lady of her high birth, hung ignominiously from a briar thatch just beyond where Lady Wanda was chasing a ram who was chasing a bleating sheep.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you see her familiars anywhere about? Clint asked quietly, looking for any hint of company.</p><p> </p><p>"Sometimes witches use cats as their familiars." Bucky looked at him and smirked. Natasha's eyes scanned the horizon. There was not a cat in sight. Fortunately.</p><p> </p><p>"It will be possible," Bucky muttered, imagining a not-so-far-fetched idea. “ Her familiars are sheep? " </p><p> </p><p>Sheep?!” Clint and Natasha gasped as one, looked surprised at this incredible turn of events.</p><p> </p><p>It will be possible. No! of course not. Natasha thought for a moment and then denied and reconsidered, dismissing the idea. No. Oh No! She is not going to get carried away by Bucky's crazy childhood fantasies. "I've never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life." Natasha laughed. She believed Bucky's dog is more mature than his owner.</p><p> </p><p>"Me neither." Clint agreed and laughed. But they all looked at each other, unsure what to believe. If indeed she did use sheep as familiars, she must be a powerful witch. There were dozens of sheep in the area.</p><p> </p><p>“And look.” Clint added the object in witch’s hand. "She carries a staff. Everyone knows that witches carries a magic staff. And of course, with a bell and a crystal.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a tinkling sound coming from the neck of the female sheep being swived by the lustful ram. Although she will never admit it, Natasha’s fine hairs stood out all over her body at that confirmation of at least one of the witch's tools. Bucky and Clint narrowed their eyes to see if she might be wearing, or carrying, a crystal. But they saw nothing on witch's body than her simple dress. No doubt she kept it hidden.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think she dances naked in the forest? Bucky asked looking body’s Witch up and down. "I mean, it's a common witch practice."</p><p> </p><p>“Did your witch that?” Natasha asked with a devilish smile.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, she did." Bucky answered, smiling back. "It was almost worth receiving her cursed mark to see that exhibition." The brunette licked his lips at the memory of those days.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think seeing this witch naked is very pleasant." Natasha murmured, Bucky and Clint agreed with her. The girl looked thin and haggard, totally disheveled with her wild, tousled hair. And those marks on her face were enough to make her unappealing in Natasha's eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha gritted her teeth as Bucky's dog began to bark wildly, the sheep bleating and the horses neighing nervously, all while they made those observations. In the midst of this chaos, a flea sheepdog came toward them, while a flock of bleating sheep following behind. Apparently the sheepdog had noticed Bucky's wolfhound, Beast, who stood near his horse’s right front leg, trying to appear distant but pissing trickles of excitement.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha and her comrades without believing in their eyes gaped with this ungodly spectacle. Just then, the ram finished his rutting and sheeply mate escaped.</p><p> </p><p>But apparently the horny ram had other ideas. He chased after her, but then stopped dead in this tracks, did an about-face and began chasing Lady Wanda, who had been shouting at the two of them to desist at once his lustful intentions. When the ram struck Lady Wanda's rump with his curly horns, the witch gave a cry and fell to the ground with her rump in the air.</p><p> </p><p>The three Alphas stared, transfixed, at one particular spot.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Natasha could only wonder ...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Did the witch have a tail or didn’t she?</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Seidkona means Witch</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. E Heiti Natasha</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p><br/>The Vikings were really coming.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, they’d already come.</p><p> </p><p>And they were staring at her ass.</p><p> </p><p>Lecherous heathens! Bloody libertines! Viking curs! If they dare try to rape me, I'll pull out my  shears, and at least one of them will no longer have such lewd inclinations!" Wanda thought, her cheeks burning with an intense blush of shame as Agnes whimpered a continuously with the mortal fear she feels. "Oh no, oh, oh no."</p><p> </p><p>The dog and half a dozen sheep were circling the whole a lot of them, with Bella yipping an overexuberant dog welcome to beatiful wolfhound who’d arrivey with the North Alphas. Meanwhile, David had already mounted the finally docile Sheba, and the look on his face was pure ecstasy.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda would have been mortified if these Alpha were not Vikings, who probably witnessed such crude behavior all the time in their primitive lands. Clearing her throat and trying to calm embarrassment feeling on her. "My good alphas, what do you do here on my lands? How may I assist you?" Wanda inquired in the Norse tongue, which was very similar to English. She'd become proficient in the language these past years as she’d negotiated her wools in the markets of Northumbria, which were heavily populated with peoples of Viking descent.</p><p> </p><p>Now, as Wanda spoke to them, she stood awkwardly to her feet and put one hand on her hip, trying to strike a casual pose of fearless while at the same time adjusting her headrail with the other hand. Except that her headrail and her wimpel had manages to disappear. Wanda ranked her trembling fingers through the chaos on top of her head. She suspected that she looked like a long haired sheep before the shearing. To be honest, Jack had once told her just that, in a lame attempt at encouraging her to improve her appearance to help their matrimonial pursuits for her. Wanda felt enormous frustration when her ragged nails kept snagging on the knots in her hair, she gave up with a little groan of exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>"My manor is over the fells a short distance." Wanda informed the Vikings, pointing Westward. "If it is food and drink you seek, my steward will offer you and your fine steeds hospitality. We are a poor estate, but you need not frae..."</p><p>Wanda's words trailed off as she tossed her hair back off her face and got her first good look at the three Viking Alphas, who still sitting on magnificent black destriers, with finely tooled leather and silver trappings. She shivered inwardly, but not from the autumn breeze, which was brisk and gaining strength. Deadly sharp swords, pattern-welded in the Viking tradition, hung from scabbards at their sides. On their horses  highly embossed shields. Two of them were tall and muscular. The woman was … Oh! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Wanda had to bite her bottom lip to keep from whimpering, just like Agnes and losing control.</p><p> </p><p>All the alphas wore slim black wool braies and short leather ankle boots with cross-gartered up trim legs. The one on the left was a blond with a bow on his back. His blonde-brown hair hung loose to shoulder length. He wore a brown wool tunic, beltedd at the waist and covered at the shoulders with several layers of matching mantles of different length that left one arm exposed, an arm rested on a long-poled battle ax, braced now on the ground. </p><p> </p><p>He had probably seen no more than forty winters, but he had hard lines etched his face, aging him beyond his years.  A black patch over one eye completed the image of a battered soldier punished by the horrors of war.</p><p> </p><p><br/>The Viking on the right was dark hair, and Wanda guessed he was as vain as a peacock. At least five years younger than the blond, he stroked his silky mustache. His beard and hair were woven into perfect intricate braids, (a habit many warriors adopted to avoid their hair flying into their eyes in the midst of battle) but this Viking's plaits were interlaced with colorful beads. Most interesting was the blue jagged line down the middle of his face, which detracted not all from his appearance; in fact, some might say it enhanced his attraction. He wore a blue wool tunic, matching his eyes and his face design, but instead of a shoulder mantle, a gray fox skin was tossed carelessly from shoulder to opposite waist, front and back, tucked into a wide belt tanned leather.</p><p> </p><p>The animal that had died for his comfort must have been huge. Reaching down nimbly to the ground, he pattef the clamoring dog, cautioning. "Shhh, Beast. She's just a scurvy bitch. Beneath your interest of a quick dalliance, my good dog." The brunette Alpha grinned scornfully at Wanda as he spoke, making it unclear whether he was referring to Bella or to her.</p><p> </p><p>But it was the Viking in the middle. (who was apparently the leader) who caught and held her interest. Wanda’s head had  never been turned by a Alpha’s pleasing countenance in the past. It was now. Her eyes rested on every part of the Alpha body.</p><p> </p><p><br/>She had long curly red hair with orange highlights. Wanda likened it to the color of blood or ripe pomegranates, that reddish color giving the appearance of shimmering blood. the curls seemed to glow for the exposure to the sun.  The redhead looked older than her, she was probably thirty winters old, and goodly gorgeous. Blessed St. Bonifies!" Wanda cursed herself for her recklessness but she must admit the years sat very well on Alpha redhead.</p><p> </p><p>Her curls, too was braided, but only on one side, where show a her ear was pierced by few tiny earrings. She was dressed all in  black " braies, tunic and belt" she was covered shoulder to ankle by a cloak of magnificent wool of the best quality, lined with black sable. The cloak was pinned off one shoulder with a heavy gold brooch in a design of intertwined ravens with clear chrysolite eyes. Hanging from a chain around her neck was an amber pendant in the shape of an arrow.</p><p> </p><p>" Well?" the red-haired alpha said, green eyes taking her measure with icy disdain.</p><p> </p><p>"Um … Wha … What?" Wanda asked awkwardly, the redheaded alpha must have been talking while Wanda was lost in her ridiculous thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>"I said, my lady" she repeated with exaggerated patience, feigned gentleness. " e heiti Natasha …  I mean … My name is Jarl Natasha Romanovdottir, and I have not come this great distance for your food or drink."</p><p> </p><p>Wanda cocked her head to the side. Not understanding why this unfamiliar woman was acting so rude to her. Wanda frowned and asked. "Why then have you come?"</p><p> </p><p>"Is for you I have come, Lady Wanda." said Natasha as she climbed down from the horse with a jump. “Show me your tail …”</p><p> </p><p> "What?!!!!" Wanda with wild eyes just screamed with shock  and backed up a step as this crazy woman approached her. HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS!</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Mjöd</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>"Show me your tail."</p><p> </p><p>"What?!"</p><p> </p><p>"You heard me what I say." Natasha immediately scoffed and smiled, "Show me your tail."</p><p> </p><p>"Ta... tail...?" Wanda not understanding what this stranger was referring to, reeled inwardly with shock. Oh! How she would like nothing more than to take a wooden trencher off the table and whack the thick head of crude oaf, Natasha Romanovdottir. Her reference to a witch was the latest in a series of outrageous remarks she said to her since they’d come from the sheep pasture, the first and most outrageous being that she’d come all the way Norway for her.</p><p> </p><p>She was sitting next to her at the high table in her hall with an iron hand gripping her forearm, locking her to the arm of the chair. Otherwise, she’d have long long ago-stand and exited her presence, forthwith. She and her two comrades had refused to leave her out of their sight since they had arrived at the manor house, not even when she gone to change the garderobe. Wanda refrained from running them out of her home and decided to talk to them diplomatically before making their situation worse.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen, uh..." The brute female Alpha had informed her from the first of his title, a jarl, which was one step below a king, a similar in nobility to an English lord. She held this link to the upper Norse nobility, thanks to bloodlines linking her to her grandsire, the famous, long dead, King Harald "Fairhair". Like if Wanda cared whether she was a lowly slave or a high jarl. That redhead was just rude with no education or decorum.</p><p> </p><p>Or whether she was a Viking, Frank, ol, or Saxon, for that matter. That Alpha was still a crude oaf. But how does one adress a Viking of higher station? <em>(My lord? My jarl? My barbarian?).</em> Listen, my jarl..." said Wanda measuring the effect of her words.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Natasha let out a laugh, shaking her head in amusement. "Call me Natasha. Lady Wanda." She leaned forward and clasped her hands together on the table. "Well, are you going to show me your tail and end these bothersome protest? If you have no tail, it... though I am inclined to believe that a true witch could make a tail appear and disappear at will."</p><p> </p><p>Despite her efforts to restrain herself, Wanda bared her teeth at her and made a low hissing sound in offense as she turned her face to hide the blush on her cheeks. Oh no, a wood trencher would be too mild pun punish for this horrible alpha. Better a rock. A big one. Wanda just want to hit that hollow head to bring it her to her senses.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha grinned at the young witch's reaction. She would think witches were libertine by nature, but this girl seemed quite the opposite. A real prude.</p><p> </p><p>"If I were a true witch, I would put a spell on you right now and turn you into a toad." Wanda gritted her teeth and began shifting in her seat uncomfortably.</p><p> </p><p>"Be that as it may, my lady." Natasha laughed. "I have wasted more than enough time in pursuit for you. I expect to be aboard my longship in Jorvik in three days. So stop pretending and do us a favor."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Are these alphas idiots or deafs. Wanda let out a noise of frustration. "Arghh." She’d been trying to convince the stubborn blackguard of her innocence ever since she’d told her out on the fells that she’d come to Graycote for the witch who'd put a spell on some Viking king. A likely story! No doubt she was searching for a target to pillage. Well, she’d find naught of worth in her poor keep. Or maybe she was hoping to kidnap her to use as a hostage. Little did the redhead know that her cousins, wouldn't pay a penny for her return. Her only value to them was in the bride price they received for her every time they arranged a marriage ... along with the estates that ceded to her on widowhood, of course.</p><p> </p><p>And her indiscreet Castilian, Gerald, would be of no help. Wanda grimaced with disgust as her gaze hit on her supposed protector, the leader of her bird of soldiers. The pitiful man was over there, at the end of the high table, almost nodding off to sleep and it was barely past high noon. These Vikings must think they’d been handed a gift from their heathen gods on viewing the weak protection of her keep. Hah! That was a deliberate tactic on her part. Her prosperous farms and sheep pastures were in sharp contrast to the starkness with provisions, but with no embellishments or luxury fur belows, like wall tapestries or silver tableware. If ever Wanda enlarged her timber and stone mannor house into a fine castle, Brock and Jack would take it from her in a trice. The same was true of her bird of soldiers under Gerald's leadership.</p><p> </p><p>Strong fighting soldiers would just draw the attention of their annoying and abusive cousins.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, look at it this way. You don't have children who demand your presence here." Natasha looked at her and sighed deeply, hoping to convince the young girl.</p><p> </p><p>Huh?" Wanda realized she’d been half-attending while that insensitive rude woman prattled on.</p><p> </p><p>"You are free to leave your estate in the care of minions for so long. Actually, you could consider this a pleasure trip in the Nordic Lands." Natasha commiserated and smiled as she crossed her arms over her chest, well pleased with herself for coming up with that ridiculous justification for her actions.</p><p> </p><p>"A pleasure trip?" Wanda gave her a cold look, she could scarce keep her voice down to a low shriek. “Wouldst that be comparable to plucking out person’s fingernails and calling it good grooming?</p><p> </p><p>"Probably." Natasha said cheekily, shrugging her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda thought about it for a moment, thinking of something to help her out of this. Maybe a lie or a pretext. With an idea in mind she asked. " 'How do you know whether I have children?'</p><p> </p><p>"Your fool Castellan told me so." Natasha replied firmly. "Actually he told us all about you. If I were you, I'd have him flogged for such a terrible indiscretions"</p><p> </p><p>Oh, maybe she would do that. If she got out of this one, Wanda was going to have a serious talk with Gerald about his loose tongue. In the meantime, if the alpha could bring up children, then so could she.</p><p> </p><p>"What will your children think of you hauling an unwilling woman halfway 'round the world, huh?" Wanda stared at her, not letting those green eyes intimidate her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her face turned red under her pale skin. "I don't have children Well no...not that I know of." Natasha growled, suddenly feeling angry.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda arched an eyebrow at the way she said it. Feeling curious at such a peculiar reaction she remarked the questions into a question. "That you know of?</p><p> </p><p>"Listen to me well my lady. My family or lack of no one is none of your business." Natasha shot her an angry look as she replied icily and held up a hand to stop the Witch from saying anything else. "I have been kind to you thus far, Lady Wanda. We can do this the good way or not. It doesn't matter to me."</p><p> </p><p>Wanda parted her lips just enough to object and say. "But..."</p><p> </p><p>"Gather your belongings, I beseech you. Or I will. One way or another, we must leave soon if we are to make camp at Aynsley afore nightfall."</p><p> </p><p>"But-" Wanda tried to object again.</p><p> </p><p>"No, no." Natasha refused to let her complete her arguments. "You should know this, my lady. I promised to deliver a witch to Anlaf, and a witch I will deliver to Anlaf “</p><p> </p><p>"Ha!... I am ...not ... a... witch," Wanda said pausing between words, so that twat, foolish alpha would understand as she rose from her seat.</p><p> </p><p>"Then... prove it... lady Wanda." Natasha did the same, mimicking the pauses between words and rose to be eye level with the troubled woman's face.</p><p> </p><p>She bristled. Don't say anything Wanda. Keep your wits about you. Having a clear head has gotten you out of worse situations than this.</p><p> </p><p>"Everyone knows a witch has a tail." Natasha continued, making fun of the witch.</p><p> </p><p>" Everyone?" Wanda scoffed, still incredulous the nonsense words coming out of this redhead's mouth. Wanda thought this Alpha had a brain, how wrong she was.</p><p> </p><p>"Thus I've been told," Natasha said defensively, frowning sternly as her red eyelashes fluttered with uncertainty.</p><p> </p><p>"By whom, if may I ask?" Wanda asked more amused than concerned at this point. She wants to meet that ignorant idiot</p><p> </p><p>"Um, he ..." Natasha's face flushed as she pointed regretfully to the side where the one-eyed Alpha, Clint "the world's most unlikely skald", was drinking great gulps of mead and mumbling something about between his teeth like ... "<em>Hear one and all, this is the saga of Natasha "The Raven" who met a scarred witch-shepherdess …”</em></p><p> </p><p>"Natasha The Raven?" asked Wanda, covering her mouth with her hand, unable to contain a chuckle. Natasha only blushed and tried to look unconcerned and cold as her friend embarrassed her in front of the enemy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“To straighten the king's tail.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Did the brave warrior come.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>To lose her tail.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Did the bold witch aspire.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Which tail will win.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In this battle of the tails?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Natasha shrugged in embarrassment and shared a chuckle with her at her own expense. She liked that in an Alpha or Omega, the ability to laugh at oneself. Clint was terrible as a skald but his crooked, uninspired lines made Natasha smile ... most of the time.</p><p> </p><p>"But you must recognize that this whole situation is absurd, I'm no more a witch than you're a...a troll." Wanda's lips twitched with amusement at that comment. "On the other hand..."</p><p> </p><p>"Why, you imprudent wench! Are you implying that I'm a troll? " Natasha frowned and squeezed witch's forearm as punishment, but not very hard. "In truth, I must be honest with you, I can't help but admire your bravery, even though it passes all bounds of recklessness. Has no one ever warned you about tweaking the wolf's tail?</p><p> </p><p>"Don't you mean the troll’s tail? " Wanda asked cheekily.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>" Too bad you're not a more appetizing morsel. I might have enjoyed tasting your charms on the long journey to Trondelag." Natasha stifled a chuckle and smiled mischievously. Her green eyes assessed the form of the witch wrapped in a fine green wool with a matching headrail.</p><p> </p><p>Her wild brown hair was tucked neatly under a white wimple, but she knew that Alpha held no appeal for her. Of course, it was the freckles. They repelled most Alphas, superstitious fools that they were. And if not superstitious, then overly concerned with traditional standards of beauty, like milk-skin. Wanda angrily hissed in the Viking's face. "Do you think I care if you find me lovely as a goddess or homely as a hedgehog? I've buried three husbands. The next man, wedded spouse or not, who tries to taste my wares, will do so over my dead body."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The female Viking's mouth dropped open in surprise. Then she slapped her knee with appreciation.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Thor’s Blood!!! As Omega you can't speak to me like that." Natasha muttered in a icy tone. "Your tongue does outrun your good sense. Don't you know I could pull that talksome appendage from your mouth, slice it off with a mere flick of my sword and roast it for dinner?"</p><p> </p><p>Now, that is an image she do not need planted in her head. She inhale and decide to try a different tactic. "Do you honestly believe in witchcraft?" asked Wanda with narrowed eyes.</p><p> </p><p>" Yeah .... No." Natasha seemed to calm down and sighed. "Maybe."</p><p> </p><p>Wanda cocked her head, trying to understand how a woman who seemed to be intelligent ... <em>(well, at least not a drooling lackbrain.)</em> could believe in black magic, witches and curses.</p><p> </p><p>"You must needs understand that the Nordic lands are harsh and wild, especially the far north of Norway when I live there a few winters ago. Everything is vastly different from Britain, even up here in Northumbria " Natasha explained to her, loosening her grip on witch's forearm a little. "There are times during the summer when there is continuous daylight, and times during the winter when there is a continuous darkness. In a land where darkness is a fact of life for long periods of time it is easy to appreciate how people have a superstitious bent. Out of the deep forest, down from the mountains, up from the rivers and fjords they believe that the magical creatures come: : the hulders, the nisser, the fosse-grimmer, the nokker. Witches are nothing compared to this terrible creatures. Oh, I forgot. There are also the elves, the dwarfs and the trolls."</p><p> </p><p>Natasha raised her eyebrows playfully at the last word and saw the witch's eyes soften. "These are not all bad beasties, though. Some of them are quite playfully, like the spirrei by Loki, our god of mischief.</p><p> </p><p>" Also, I would tell you a tale of King Harald Fairhair. An intense loathing for wizards and magic the my grandsire have, despite the fact that one of his sons, Ragnvald Rettlebone of Hadeland, practiced the magical arts. In the end, he ordered his other son, Ivan "Bloodaxe", to kill his own son. Ivan did not only that, but killed eighty other wizards as well, for good measure. So … yeah! I believe in the black arts.</p><p> </p><p>" Oh!" It was all nonsense, as far as Wanda was concerned. But then a sudden thought ocurred to her. That fierce alpha warrior could fight off her bullying cousins with swat of her hand, if she so choose. What if she went to the Norse lands with Natasha for a short time, just till her cousins gave up their latest matrimonial efforts? Wouldn't that be a way to solve both of their problems? " the Viking would fulfill her promise to deliver a "witch" to remove a curse, and she would escape a fourth wedding. She and Natasha would win at the end of the day</p><p> </p><p>"Unhand me, Viking " Wanda said then, looking down to her arm, still trapped against the chair by her long-fingered grasp. "I would hear more about your mission. Exactly how long would it be afore you could return me to Nothumbria?"</p><p> </p><p>" My duty ends once I present you to King Anlaf" replied the redhead nonchalantly.</p><p> </p><p>She tilted her head in bewilderment. "What does that mean?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I'm fairly certain, Anlaf would send you home with an armed escort after the curse is removed, but I predict, by then the winter ice have set in. So I'd say you'll be able to return home for Easter."</p><p> </p><p><em>Fairly certain?!!!!</em> Wanda thought in alarm. Then the final words snagged her attention. She asked suddenly shouting, "Easter? Easter? But that's six months from now. I can't be gone for that long.” she had a busy season ahead of her. “What of the winter weaving? And the spring lambing? And the first shearing? My business at the port? "You're crazy! I have more than a hundred sheep to care for here in Graycote. " Wanda have her a fulminating glower, then she concluded. “It's impossible.”</p><p> </p><p>" You have no choice, my lady." Natasha leaned in and gritted her teeth.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, we shall see about that. I don't want to take drastic measures, but I will if you force my back to the wall, Viking." Wanda gritted her teeth as well. "So, tell me again. Exactly which high Viking personage am I accused of cursing?"</p><p> </p><p>Natasha stared at her and arched an eyebrow. " Are there so many?"</p><p> </p><p>“Are there so many?" Wanda repeated sarcastically in her head. "No, there are not. I cannot remember even one... " Wanda with wide eyes, paused as a quick flash of memory came to her head. "Except... Oh! Surely you do not refer to that Viking assault on St. Beatrice’s Abbey last year?”</p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." Natasha nodded and with a slight smile added. "That was King Anlaf of Norway, Lady Wanda."</p><p> </p><p>Wanda's forehead furrowed with confusion. " I thought Haakon 'the Good' was king of Norway.</p><p> </p><p>" Well, yeah. My uncle Haakon is the all-king of Norway, but there are many minor kings." Natasha explained shaking her head as she speak. "My cousin Anlaf is the chieftain, or low king, of a region in Trondelag."</p><p> </p><p>"You … Your uncle... your cousin? ... Kings?" Wanda sputtered feeling all her blood drain from her face. Her tense muscles automatically relaxed with that shocking revelation.</p><p> </p><p>" Finally! Now you understand?" Natasha smiled unabashedly as she noticed the realization appear on brunette's eyes.</p><p> </p><p>" Understand? Why, that brute, your cousin, was about to rape Sister Mary Esme." Wanda replied defensively, leaving her concerned state aside.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha just shrugged, that didn't matter to her." And you put a curse on him."</p><p> </p><p>"I did?" Wanda asked in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>" Yes you did. And waved the magic veil." nodded Natasha and the girl immediately asked. "What magic veil?</p><p> </p><p>Natasha growled. All this exchange of words is making her tired."The Virgin Veil. And, by the way, do not forget to bring the blue veil with you. Anlaf will want to see it when you remove the curse."</p><p> </p><p>Wanda closed her eyes in frustration. " That blue veil was my headrail, and I was not waving it. It fell off my head during the tussle to get that barbarian off of Sister Mary Esme.</p><p> </p><p>"You can't be serious!" replied Natasha groaning with exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>" And another thing, I may have cursed the man, but I didn't put a curse on him. There's a big difference." Wanda murmured.</p><p> </p><p>" Are you trying to confuse me with your words?" Natasha frowned and hissed.</p><p> </p><p><em>'That wouldn't take much.”</em> thinking of that. Wanda just keep her mouth shut and rolled her eyes. This alpha was disappointing her expectations.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay. Let me understand what happening here." Natasha denied and sighed before adding. "Did you or did you not proclaim, "By the Virgin Veil, may your Alpha part fall off if you do this evil thing?"</p><p> </p><p>There was a long silence during which Wanda tried to assimilate Natasha’s words. She blushed with embarrassment, then as she asked with awe, " And did his alpha part fall off?"</p><p> </p><p>" Nah, it just look a right turn." Natasha denied. "Lucky for you. Otherwise I would have cut off your head on Anlaf's orders."</p><p> </p><p>"It? His alpha root. It did what? " Wanda remained stoic so that seconds later she snorted and choked with laughter. “Oh, I can barely credit what you say. His alpha part took a right turn. Ha ha ha …”</p><p> </p><p>" It's not funny!" protested Natasha, fighting the smile that threatened to break out on her face as she gently slapped the witch on the back to stop her choking.</p><p> </p><p>"Ha ha ha ha! Oh, yeah, yeah! it is. But, please " laughed Wanda as she wiped away tears of amusement with the edge of her headrail. "Please do not tell me that you and that cloddish king think I would touch his... root.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha waved her hand airily. "I know not of witchly rites for straightening a Alpha's lance. I don't care if you touch it or not. For your sake just take the spell off."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"And if I cannot do so?" asked Wanda clearing her throat.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"There are laws held sacred at the Things " our governing bodies " where witches can be stoned or drowned if they are bad witches, that is. " Natasha slitted her eyes to study her for a moment. "By the way, are you a good witch or a bad witch?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>" Aaarrrgh!" Wanda made a sound of frustration.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>" Actually, it doesn't matter. I doubt Anlaf will wait for a Thing to be called of you cannot remove the curse. " Natasha said releasing her grip on the witch's forearm.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>" Oh? Wanda gulped worried about her uncertain future.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>" Anlaf will, no doubt, just look off your head if you fail." Said Natasha with a shitty smile on her face.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. HIRD</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You don't have to be watching me every blessed time."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>" Do I not?”</p>
<p> </p>
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<p>“A big, fearsome warrior like you! What have you to fear from a harmless young girl like me?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You were not harmless from the day you came squallmi from the womb, I wager. Seem to me, I’ve heard that bad temper and brown hair go hand in hand." Natasha snorted and thought about it. Or was that just something Clint used in one of his sagas? Enough! She's wasting her thoughts on pure nonsense. “That was good you noticed my impressive stature."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"How could I not when you block the entire entrance?" Wanda replied sarcastically. "Besides you're not so tall, you only outrank me by a palm or two."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha had her shoulder leaning casually against the door frame of the Lady Wanda's bedchamber, her arms folded across her chest. Block was a good choice of word on her part because Natasha suspected she would bolt in an instant if she were not acting as the barrier to her freedom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha grunted and tapped a foot against the floor impatiently as the wench...rather, the witch...or the lady... arranged a neat pile on her high bed of the garments she intended to take on her journey to Trondelag. Worst of all, there were four blue headrails, and none of them looked magical, or for that matter, old enough to be the Blessed Virgin relic in Natasha's opinion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The whole wait was getting ridiculous. She even had enough time to drink all the mead in this pigsty. Natasha clenched her jaw and swore inwardly if she folds that gunna into one more perfect square and smoothes out every single wrinkle, she going to stuff all witch’s belongings in her saddlebagd and be done with it. Maybe Natasha stuff all that scrawny body in there, too, all neatly folded into squarish parts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was clear Lady Wanda was employing a delaying tactic, but for what purpose Natasha could not yet fathom. Lady Wanda appeared to be an intelligent Omega ...or as intelligent as a weak Omega could be. She had to know her fate sealed; she would delivered to King Aksel, willing or unwilling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, Natasha kept her temper under control. A good soldier knew to wait for just the right moment to pounce. She would not be fooled by Lady Wanda. The witch was up to some mischief. Natasha saw the evidence in the nervous fluttering of her fingertips, and this was a woman not prone to flightiness. She had given in too quickly, in the end, to her demand that she accompany her to the Norse lands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Being a mite stubborn himself on occasion, Natasha recognized a fellow mule. She grinned to herself at that mental picture, and how the missish Lady Wanda would hate that she put her in that animal category.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On the other hand, Wanda cast her a sidelong glance through narrowed, spectaculative eyes. Maybe there would still be a way to escape. All that was left was to utter the right words to make it happen. "Wouldn't you consider taking a Danegeld?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>" Aha! Now you want to bribe me?" Natasha scoffed at the girl's efforts. "With what? Mutton?”</p>
<p> </p>
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<p>Wanda bristled at redhead’s ridicule of her precious sheep. On the way back to the keep, Natasha noted with amusement that she had names for each of the stinky animals.</p>
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<p>Straining to keep up a string of offenses. Wanda put on her best smile and offered. "Maybe I could gather together a few coins."</p>
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<p>Natasha was an expert reading people, and something in furtive shadow of that eyes told her clearly that Lady Wanda was hiding something. “Mmm … Now that Natasha thought on it, the number of sheep and cattle she'd seen on the fells, along with the well-cultivated fields, bespoke a more prosperous estate than exhibited in Graycote's austere keep or in Lady Wanda’s jewelless attire. Mayhap she hoarded her gold. But for what purpose?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha pondered, trying to decipher such a complicated riddle behind this girl. Really, it was no matter to her whether Lady Wands was wealthy as a Baghdad sultan or poor as a landless cotter. Viking's duty prevailed above all else. Natasha shook her head and emphasized. “I promised Aksel a witch, and a witch he shall have.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"All for the sake of a horse?" scoffed Wanda spitefully. Her life amounted the same, if not less to a beast.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A while ago that disrespectful Viking had told her about all the trouble she'd gone to since the king's emissary had come to her in Birka, including Aksel's wily inducements to seal the mission. Her scoffing tone irritated her. Whether she’d been barmy or not to take on this mission was her concern, and whether she did so out of boredom or for a fine stallion did not merit her criticism.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Uh huh! Don't forget the slave girl." Natasha pointed out in a deliberate attempt to rattle her composure. "The beautiful girl with the bells on..." For some reason, Natasha mentioned the horse and the jingling Nadia with soft huge breasts, but she hadn't mentioned anything about Peter. The less people who knew the better, especially his sister Pepper and her husband, Tony. They would go off in a rage if they discovered Aksel's perfidy regarding their adopted son. In fact, their rage might cause a whole bloody war over an incident that Natasha could handle by simply delivering a witch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wanda's lip curved in contempt and she spat out all the venom she kept bottled up with a few words. " All idiot Alphas are the same everywhere, are they not? It doesn't matter if they be Norse or British, Alphas are led by the tail betwixt their legs. They are just beasts without thoughts, just a bunch of instincts and empty desires.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha tensed in surprise at the frankness of Lady Wanda's words and realizing that she was referring to her comment about the slave girl. Seeing the bitter expression on Lady Wanda's face, Natasha tensed, she was not accustomed to such crudity coming from a lady, but she forced herself to remain expressionless. "My lady, you exceed yourself. You would do best not to earn my scorn. Speaking of tails, how much trouble does yours cause?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>" Aside from deaf, Alphas are clumsy." Wanda chuckled to herself and repeated a refrain that was becoming tiresome to Natasha. "I'm… not ... a ... witch."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I would think it could pose problems when to attend to your needs in the garderobe." Natasha replied scathingly, as if the girl hadn't said anything. She’d already notified that Lady Wanda hated it when she ignored her words. "Or riding a horse. Oh, oh, I just thought of something..."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Now theres is a rare event." Wanda laughed more heartily. "Don’t do that. You can get tired or hurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha frowned at her impertinent interruption and more at the mockery of Lady Wanda’s words. "I am loath to ask, but...do you have a mood tail?" Natasha realized she didn't want to ask, but she couldn't help herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>" A humor tail?" Wanda arched her eyebrows, stopping for a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You know... does it wag of its own volition when you are in a happy mood, like a puppy?" Natasha mimicked the movement with her index finger. And droop when you are in a despondent mood, like when the blood curdles in your witchly cauldron?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I find no humor in your foolery." Wanda replied in a flat voice and bit her lip with frustration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha didn't know how or why, but there was something appealing about the woman when her feathers were ruffled, but she just could not see past those hideous freckles. And even though a crisp wimple covered her bright brown hair, Natasha knew it was there underneath, just waiting to spring forth. Besides, she had almost no eye-catchers to speak of, as far as Natasha could tell. Just some nice breasts she wouldn't mind holding in her palms and lick them in near future.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her preferences didn't always necessarily lean towards a voluptuous front, but honestly Lady Wanda’s front looked more lumpy than ripe peaches, those pale globes and firmness drew Natasha's attention a lot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Keep your eyes on your face, you perverted Viking." Wanda hissed, warning Natasha to look away when she noticed the gaze of those green eyes.</p>
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<p>Natasha smirked smugly. Aha! Another feather ruffled. She liked to tease the girl too, so she added. " Oh, Holy Thor! How could I have forgotten the most important thing? What do you do with your tail when you spread your legs for a despicable Alpha?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wanda gasped and clenched her fists, but masked her shock quickly with a bland face. "Mmm... Since I've been a widow for over a year and more, I rarely go to bed with an alpha. Have you all-knowing Vikings found a way to engage in bed without a mate?" Wanda batted her eyelashes at the redhead as if she meant it, when she was actually teasing her, while in fact she mocked her.”Verily, there was not all that much mating even when I had a mate … not that I ever complained about that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh, Lady Wanda, that's exactly the kind of provocative mark you should not make to a Viking." Natasha hummed and smiled lasciviously at the young woman, teasing her. She wanted to see this girl furious and out of control.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wanda glared at Natasha and sneered, flexing some of her angry a little too rudely. “How dare you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I know how to play a teasing game too. So don't try to distract me with your tempting propositions, we must be on our way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Tem … tempting." Wanda sputtered angrily under her breath. "Perverted. Devilish woman."</p>
<p> </p>
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<p>"By the by, Bucky, Clint and I were wondering if you've ever danced naked in the forest." Natasha commented absently playing with her arrow necklace.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Danced ...danced ...oh, you are the most rude, insufferable, loathsome, lecherous lout, and most perverted person I have ever met in all my life. And believe me, I've met a lot of Alphas like you." Wanda spun around and pointed at her in an accusing, angry voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, yeah." Natasha put a hand on her chest and smiled as if they were the most beautiful compliments coming out of Lady Wanda's mouth. Until she dramatically changed her expression and added. "Okay, but enough with the compliments for now. We have no time for pleasantries.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wanda stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, insulted by this rude woman. "Turn aside while I gather my undergarments. Tis not meet that you should ogle my intimate apparel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ogle? Me?" Natasha stiffened. "Lady, despite my mention of temptation, do not delude yourself. Your intimate apparel holds no allure for me. Nor do you intimate parts. Your virtue will not be forfeit in my company, I assure you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just then, Clint approached from the corridor and patted Natasha's back. "I've already gathered provisions from the kitchen, and Bucky says the horses are ready. When you order we'll get out of this scary place. Natasha looked toward Lady Wanda's, her eyebrows arched in question of her readiness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A flush of panic swept across Lady Wanda's face, causing the freckles to stand out even more. However, before Natasha could assure her safety, leastways till they got to Aksel's court , a loud rumbling came from Natasha’s gut, followed by a most painful cramping. At the same time bile rose without warning into her throat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Nat!?" asked Clint, really surprised by such a brutal reaction on her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Startled, Natasha glanced first at Clint, who was looking at her with concern as she bent over at the waist, clutching her abdomen, then glanced at Lady Wanda, who had the effrontery to grin. Natasha thought she heard her mutter "Mmmm ... looks like I had a choice after all, silly Troll." Without another word, Natasha made a mad rush for the garderobe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were two things Natasha heard Clint say behind her as she laid one hand over her mouth and other over her stomach, praying she would make the privy before she embarrassed herself in front of the enemy. "Lady Wanda, if you have put a curse on my leader Natasha, I will light the torch beneath your stake myself. And it will be a slow-burning fire ." -And then, Clint muttered between silly giggles, following Natasha. "Hey Natie! I think a good title would be Natasha 'The Raven' and the Raging Bowel, don't you think?"</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Two days later...</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tired, with after-effects of bowel disease and a bad mood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha sat atop her horse in the inner bailey, about to leave Graycote, finally. She was weak-kneed as an inexperienced little girl after her first swiving, and she’d lost so much weight she resembled a starvling, but she was alive, praise be to the gods, and there had been several times in the last two nights when Natasha questioned whether she’d survive the violent heaving and purging. Fortunately she made it. "I still say you should have let me kill the scurvy witch when first realized she had laid a curse on your entrails.” Clint complained and looked fraternally at Nat. "Maybe then, the spell would have been removed earlier."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All of the castle folk—three dozen of them, from the high castellan to the lowly kitchen carls—were barricaded in the stable under Clint’s stern-faced guard.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Natasha and her comrades reached a village later today or tomorrow, they would make sure someone was sent back to unlock them. There was plenty of water to share with the horses, and it would do done of them harm to go a day without food. Some would say that's called revenge, for Natasha it's justice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clint left his post and mounted his horse upon seeing Bucky emerging from the great hall. He led the much-subdued Lady Wanda by a rope tied around her neck, even though her eyes sparked green fire of outrage at her mistreatment by her three captors, including herself. Hah! Natasha would like to speak with her about real mistreatment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Welt marks stood prominent on her right cheek from Bucky’s slap yestermorn when she finally confessed her perfidy, though she'd claimed that was a mere herb, not a deadly curse. Furthermore, she'd avowed that the herbal potion was intended to delay Natasha departure from Graycote, not cause her departure from this world. If she'd wanted to kill her, she would have given the tainted drink to Bucky and Clint, as well, she contended. Natasha could have accepted that explanation if she hadn't then refused to explain what purpose could be served by a delay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That’s when Bucky had wielded his open palm on her. It had taken both Natasha and Clint to hold Bucky back from more permanent injury. No doubt Bucky would have liked to mark the witch’s face permanently, just as his had been.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That side of her face was swollen and bluish-yellow with healing—a stark foil against her pale skin highlighted with the ungodly freckles. Wanda was fortunate Bucky hadn’t loosened all her teeth with the force of his blow. Bucky’s hatred of witches had intensified threefold since their arrival at Graycote.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still furious at such a cowardly attack, Natasha stared at dispassionately. Violence was commonplace in a Viking's life, especially in battle, but it was rarely directed against female Omegas. Natasha could feel no sympathy for this woman, though, since she had suffered so much worse at her hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She supposed they should be fearful in her presence after what she had done to her and Aksel. But the three of them now wore makeshift wooden crosses hanging from leather thongs on their chests. It was Clint’s idea. A sure method for warding off evil spirits, including a witch's magic, or so he asserted. Plus, they had put their braies on backwards to confuse the witch—another of Clint’s bright ideas—something that was inconvenient when visiting the garderobe for a mere piss. Finally, Bucky had brought forth a small vial of holy water he'd been given by a monk in Dublin. Periodically, these past two days, Bucky sprinkled each of them with the blessed liquid. He intended to replenish his supply at the minster in Jorvik.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Bucky had doused the witch with a generous splash of holy water, they’d all backed away, fully expecting her skin to sizzle and burn. But nothing had happened, except she looks like a sodden rooster.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha wasn’t so sure about all these maneuvers, especially when Lady Wanda snickered the first time she had explained their purpose, including the backwards braies. Which had made Wanda choke with her thunderous laughter." Are you an idiot?" She asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>" No!" he’d snapped. Maybe, Natasha thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Two days had gone by without another witchly spell; maybe they were safe for now. And it was past time to leave this bloody Saxon land and return to Trondelag, where witches, trolls and magic events were the stuff of legends. Natasha could scarcely wait till this whole witchly mission was over and done. If it weren’t for Peter, she would have abandoned the ill-fated assignment sennights ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because the Lady Wanda’s hands were bound in front of her, Bucky put his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her up to her saddle, none too gently. She wore loose underbraies so she could sit astride, something she had protested vehemently, but he’d insisted upon for the sake of speed. The lady’s snarl was her only reaction to being touched by a Alpha who clearly repulsed her. With good reason.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In a moment of consciousness these past two days, Natasha had discovered that Bucky was piling a pile tree limbs and kindling in the courtyard... enough wood to feed a bonfire. In the middle of this was a wooden stake, to which Bucky intended to place the witch the moment Natasha died and went to Valhalla.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luckily, Natasha had not died. Lucky for the witch, as well. No that was not going to happen. Natasha wished for a glorious death in battle and not the death of a cowardly commoner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But the witch’s pyre still stood as a reminder in the courtyard for all to see. And the grim-faced Wanda was all too aware of its continuing existence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  In the process of arranging the Omega on the shifting mare, Bucky jerked her restrained hands forward so she would be able to grasp the front of the saddle. Clint had already taken her reins in hand and would lead her horse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>" You brute!" Lady Wanda shouted at the despicable Alpha. "You are a beast."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And you the daughter of Satan! -" countered Bucky hissing through his teeth. "You'll burn in bloody hell soon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"If I had real powers, I would have struck you dead long ago." Wanda hissed as well and scowled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"That's enough! Desist!" Natasha roared in a harsh voice. Her angry growl echoed around. With dead eyes and icy voice, she growled menacingly. "It will be two or three sennights, at the least, on land and sea, till we get to Aksel's court. Let me tell you, I refuse to listen to you two bickering endlessly the entire time. The next one who speak or does anything stupid, I'll cut its head off, understand?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But he..." Wanda started to say, pointing to the brutish Viking beside her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But she...” Bucky started to say, pointing at the horrible witch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But nothing!" growled Natasha rubbing her forehead. It was an ill omen of things to come if she had a headache even before they began their journey. Natasha fixed Lady Wanda with her gaze now. “You do know how to ride, don’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ha! And now you ask me?" replied Wanda indignantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Answer the bloody question." The expression on Natasha's face must have alerted her that she was treading a fine line. “Uh, yeah, I can ride, thought I've never done it with my hands tied."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Natasha shrugged. "Either ride thus or you ride on my lap. You decide.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I …” Lady Wanda looked at she’d just suggested her riding her, instead of her horse. "I can ride my own horse. Thanks ..." Wanda replied in a strangled voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fine. Let us be off then." Natasha took the reins in her hands and caressed her horse on the head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Come, Beast." Bucky called cheerfully to his wolfhound, who was standing next to Natasha's horse. The animal had switched his allegiance to Wanda ever since Bucky had taken her sheep and her mangy sheepdog, Bella, to a far pasture. Thereafter, Beast had been alternately despondent and mad with frustration, howling till the wee hours of the morning. It would seem Beast was smitten with Bella. Their constant chasing of each other about the keep these past two days, with a dozen dumb sheep following after, had driven all the servants nigh mad. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh! So be it then, traitor." Bucky nudged his knees against his stallion's sides to prompt him into motion. At the same time, he reached over and slapped Wanda’s mare on the rump.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mare whinnied and bolted, rearing up on its two legs. And Lady Wanda slipped ignominiously to the ground, smack onto her bottom. Since she appeared merely chagrined, not injured, Natasha assumed her tail had buffered the fall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>All three Alphas burst out laughing at such a funny scene.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh, Lady Witch." Natasha gasped out. "I thought you said you could ride."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You could have given me fair warning, you... you..." Embarrassed Wanda stammered, trying to get up as quickly as possible, but failing. Her shaky legs wouldn't respond her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clint was laughing so hard that his one eye was watering, and Bucky smirked with delight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Curse you all, you heathen louts,” she shouted, scrambling clumsily to her feet. “I hope… I hope… “ Wanda mumbled, cursing that bloody Alphas. Just then a flock of winter geese came flying overhead, honking loudly… And splattered the three Alphas. Lady Wanda had the good sense, or the mental forewarning, to duck under her mare’s belly. Thus, she was the only one unanointed by the vile “rain.” Tears of laughter were streaming down her face when she emerged from her hiding place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Natasha exchanged a meaningful look with her two comrades as they all attempted to brush off the goose droppings with scraps of cloth. And then they exclaimed as one:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  “She really is a witch!!!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Fyrd</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>Five days later</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Natasha! Na- ta- sha-! What in the name of heaven are you up to now?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha put her face on her hands at the familiar female voice addressing her from the steps of the royal palace in Jorvik. "Betty?!" She muttered under her breath. " Holy Odin! Just what I do not need!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Standing near the entrance to the king's garth where her uncle, Ivan, the Norse king, resided, Natasha’s sister-by-marriage, Betty . All Britain was under Saxon rule, except for this incessant splinter, Northumbria, which was once more in the hands of the Vikings. And if Betty , a Saxon lady, was in Jorvik, the Viking seat of Northumbria, then that could only mean that her husband, her half-Viking brother Bruce, Lord of Ravenshire, was close by.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>With Bruce and Betty as witnesses, she would never, ever live down this misadventure. Never.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>" What are you doing with all those sheep?" Betty stared at her with a clinical eye as she crossed the arms over her chest" You hate sheep. You always claimed your grandmother's sheep smelled to high Valhalla. Are you trading sheep now, instead of amber?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha just grunted in response. When Betty opened her mouth it was hard to stop her and even harder to respond. "Who is she?" asked Lady Wanda. The witch was sitting astride the mare next to her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"My sister-by-marriage, Lady Betty." Natasha explained by way of introduction and pointed to the brunette in front of her. "She is married to my brother Bruce, Lord of Raven-shire."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You are ... You are kin to a Saxon lord?" Wanda's eyebrows lifted with astonishment and disbelief. "You have blood links to Norse kings and Saxon lord’s. What's next? A Byzantine emperor?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha would have said something wittsome and biting back to her, but she never got the chance.</p><p> </p><p>Eadyth, fists on hips, was railing at her again before bombarding Natasha with so many questions. "Why are the hands tied on the woman sitting on that horse? Why does she have a rope dangling from her neck? And why is she glaring at you so? Are those fingermarks on her cheek? Did you strike a woman, Natasha? Did you? For shame!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Lady Wanda did look awful. She’d long since lost her wimple and headrail. Luckily, they were not blue, or he would have had to go chasing back after them, in case it was the Virgin’s Veil. Her hair stood out like a bush of dry curly leaves. Though autumn was in full bloom, her pale complexion was sunburned… not a pretty picture with the freckles standing out even more. Her clothing was dirty and disheveled since she’d refused to allow her or Bucky or Clint to watch—<em>uh, guard … guard</em> —her whilst she changed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha heard Bucky and Clint chuckle behind her. Betty shifted her attention from Natasha to the other men. "Why are you three dolts wearing your braies backwards? Is it some kind of lackbrain jest? And crosses… since when have you turned the religious zealot, Natasha?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bucky amused by the whole situation, snickered, but not for long. Betty walked over and examined the tall brunette's face. He just grimaced and said. "Bucky, what happened to your face? Did you fall in a vat of woad dye? Do you attempt to stand out in a crowd? Ah, vanity ever was your weakness, and you no doubt think that silly mark is attractive. Well, it’s not.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Now it was Bucky's turn to groan and down his face to hide the embarrassing mark over his face. Betty spun and saw the blond man dismount from the horse, with a bright smile on her face she hugged him. "Hi Clint! Good to see you again. Have you come up with any new sagas? How is Laura?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"For a certainty, my lady. It's good to see you too. Ah, Laura is pregnant. I'm going to be father next spring with Freya's blessing." Clint smiled as radiant as the sun and Betty hugged him again for such good news. "For now, I follow my leader in her journeys. Natasha The Raven has been so busy I can scarce keep track of all her exploits."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I can just imagine." Betty said, eyeing at Natasha with dry humor as she quietly mouthed. "Natasha The Raven?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After five days of riding up one fell and over another, in the company of the most shrewish witch from hell, followed by a smitten sheepdog and a half-dozen sheep who refused to stay in their pens despite being returned to Graycote three times, Natasha had thought she'd experienced the worst days of her life. She soon found out that the worst was about to come. Lady Betty was a force of nature to be feared.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Just then, an arrow whizzed past her head, barely missing her right ear, and embedded itself in a passing cart. Amazed, Natasha turned to see a group of armed horsemen approaching. Just entering the high-arched gates that separated the Norse palace from the Coppergate merchant sector of Jorvik, the attackers were still some distance away<em>—at least ten ells—way too far for even an expert archer to aim his bow.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Startled passersby strolling the stalls of the tradesmen, a well as personages about to enter the palace grounds, gaped with alarm at the peril entering their midst. Many ran for cover or ducked under the canopies of their trading booths. “Helvtis” she swore upon seeing that the two noblemen in front had bushy brown hair and same color eyes. “Damn!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bucky, Clint and Natasha exchanged looks of incredulity, even as they instinctively went into battle readiness. Reaching for weapons and shields, they prepared to fight off whatever for threatened them. But what idiot man in his right mind would risk starting a fight in the midst of the business center of the city, or so near the palace and its fighting forces?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>One of the brown-haired miscreants yelled. " Halt, you whoresons of the North!". The pitiful idiot was waving a sword in the air so wildly that Natasha feared he might chop off his own head.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The other brown-haired miscreant seemed to have trouble staying upright on his horse and was holding on to the reins with both hands. From the bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, Natasha assumed he was the ill-trained archer who'd attempted to shoot her. The lackwit managed to inform Wanda in a shrill shout, "Never fear, sister dear, we have come to rescue you from that red-head devil spawn."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Red-head devil spawn?" asked Natasha pointing to herself with a hand on her chest. She felt indignant at the peculiar use of words. "That whoreson is referring to me?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Well... you're the only redhead here, Nat." Bucky scoffed and shrugged, but stopped when Natasha shot him an angry look and said. "Shut the fuck up, blue face.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Betty!" Natasha turned and ordered to Betty. "Betty, get into the palace, out of dangers way. You'll be safe in there."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Nooo. I want to stay. This is going to be exciting." Betty was gaping, watching the impending action, open-mouthed, as if it was a jester’s show. "I want to watch you kick some arses.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Betty! Make the haste, now!" roared Natasha, and Betty nearly jumped out of her skin and mumbled angrily. "All right, all right. Don't yell at me."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Clint had already released his halberd, affectionately named “Head Splitter,” from its specially designed leather strap at the side of his horse. Grinning with anticipation, Clint hefted the long-handled battle-ax in one hand. On more occasions than Natasha could count, she’d seen Clint save the day in a fierce fight by severing an enemy from crown to cock with just one swift blow from “Head Splitter.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bucky pulled a leather helmet with a metal noseguard over his head, lay his favorite sword, “Death Stalker,” across his lap, and grinned at her. She probably relished the prospect of spilt blood, since they’d not exercised their battle skills for a long time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> As the attackers approached, Natasha noticed another nobleman trailing behind—a short, balding man of at least sixty who was as wide as he was tall. His poor horse looked sway-backed with the excess weight. “No heathen barbarian steals what is mine,” he asserted. He, too, was waving a sword in a dangerous fashion.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Halt, if you value your lives.” Natasha warned the group of idiots in a firm voice, standing up her stirrups and raising an axe high. The whole time, she surveyed the third: twelve soldiers, in addition to the three noblemen, <em>(two Alphas and a Beta).</em> She and Bucky and Clint could handle the lot themselves with ease, maybe even have a little fun.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, in the midst of her assessment, Natasha understood why Lady Wanda had attempted to delay their departure from Graycote. The witch had been hoping for her cousin’s arrival. And could that human lard barrel bringing up the rear guard be her latest betrothed? Had Lady Wanda poisoned her so that they would have time to come to her rescue?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha turned and searched her eyes in a silent accusation. Lady Wanda just shrugged without saying anything about such an embarrassing rescue attempt. “Let me guess. These would be the Lords Brock and Jack, I presume?” Natasha questioned looking straight to Wanda’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Um, uh huh. Indeed.” Wanda replied, with less enthusiasm than Natasha should have expected from a woman who’d been saved from a fate worse than death. Vikings. “Uh huh.” Natasha nodded and asked with a mischievous grin. “Mmm … and the Lord of Lard?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda’s eyes twinkled with merriment at that misname, the first show of genuine pleasure he'd witnessed since their first chaotic meeting. Natasha laughed briefly, the girl was almost <em>(ALMOST)</em> pretty when she smiled... if one could overlook the freckles .. . which she could not, of course.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Cedric.” Replied Wanda. “His name is Lord Cedric.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I certainly hope you intend to be on top on your wedding night, lest you’d be crushed to death.” Natasha scoffed in amusement as Lady Wanda made a most unbecoming snarling sound and blushed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Another arrow flew by, far over Natasha’s head, shot by one of Wanda’s cousins, the one with unsteady saddle seat. Natasha placed her battle shield in front of her face nonchalantly, fixing a questioning glare alternately at the distant archer and then Lady Wanda. Natasha arched an eyebrow and said. “And that idiot is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jack.” She replied sheepishly, lowering her face, feeling embarrassed again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“What the hell is wrong with him. Is he trying to warn me off?” Natasha stared at the clumsy man yelling curses at her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Nah.” Wanda shook her head, and replied uncomfortably. “He’s just inept.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“And an suicidal idiot too.” Natasha laughed before adding. “I’m going to enjoy kicking your cousins’ arses, Lady Wanda.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bucky, Clint and Natasha, quickly dismounted and drew their swords and axes, prepared to fight off the attackers, who now galloped into the castle courtyard. Jack almost flew headfirst out the saddle when his horse came to an abrupt halt. “Bloody idiot.” Natasha thought as she refrained from laughing at the ridiculous scene. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Lady Wanda sat atop her horse like a bloody queen, oblivious to the impending danger. In truth, these misguided knights would not harm her, not deliberately. But they might accidentally kill the very person they wanted to rescue. With a muttered curse, Natasha pulled her from the saddle and shoved her behind her, where Wanda fell to her knees. Meanwhile the sheep were bleating, the two dogs were barking, Betty was screaming into the palace doors, “Bruce, Bruce, come save your sister,” and the riderless horses were bumping into each other with fright as they tried to escape the melee.</p><p> </p><p>No one present saw how Wanda began to walk away from crowd, followed by her loyal sheep. Even worse, Viking soldiers poured from the guardhouse and passing Saxon soldiers rushed to their allies.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“ Aaarrrgh!” Wanda chocked out as the rope around her neck tightened and jerked her head back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Were you going somewhere, witchling?” a smooth femenine voice whispered against her ear. One arm wrapped around her waist from behind, drawing her flush against her hard body.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda gritted her teeth and replied in a stifled whisper. “Twould seem I’m going to hell.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“For a certainty,” she agreed, nuzzling her hair… just to annoy her. “Now, you have two punishments to anticipate, my lady. One for the poison spell. Another for calling your cousins down on us. Oh, wait… I misspoke. There are three punishments. The third will be for your attempted escape” She kissed her cheek as a final insult, and Wanda felt the outrage all way her toes. And, oddly, some places between as well. Very indignated, Wanda struggled violently against Natasha’s imprisoning arms. “You bloodthirsty brute! You enjoyed that fight, didn't you?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Better to be the raven than the carrion." She laughed and pulled the rope around her neck.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda had forgotten about the rope, which still dangled from her neck. She turned slowly within Natasha’s grasp. She tickled her nose with the frayed end of her rope, which sh must have grabbed while she attempted to escape. If she'd been thinking properly, she could have loosened it with her tied hands and pulled it over her head while all the fighting was going on.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But nay, Wanda realized, escape would have been impossible, even then. Glancing behind Natasha, she saw that the six sheep, one ram and two dogs had been following after her, bleating and barking a traitorous chorus that couldn't have been more clear to the Viking: "There she goes, there she goes, there she goes."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And there, on the dirty ground with broken noses and puple eyes lay Brock and Jack and an unconscious Lord Cedric. "Ugh...bloody hell." Wanda sighed with dismay. She would have to come up with a new plan, since she obviously couldn't depend on her idiots cousins Brock or Jack to rescue her. Plainly, they were no match for the superior fighting abilities of these Norse alphas. Before she had a chance to think of a new plan, though, Natasha the Troll bent her legs slightly, grabbed her around the knees and flung her over her shoulder. Then she headed back toward the Norse palace, with the dogs and sheep protesting loudly and laughters and shouts of encouragement surrounding them as they passed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I take exception to your hasty retreat, Lady Wanda. Do you not favor my company?” Natasha teased and gripped Lady Wanda's thighs to keep her from slipping off her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> “About as much as I favor the company of slime-bellied snakes." Wanda tried to squirm free, pounding Natasha’s back with her bound fists, missing half the time because she was blinded by her hair hanging down to the backs of her thighs. Natasha chuckled at her antics and clamped a large paw over her posterior.” That stilled her... for a moment. "You brute... you animal... you... you... Viking!" Get your hands off me. Ahhh!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Natasha, tell us truth." She heard Bucky call out with an ominous snicker. " Does she hve a tail or not?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Um. I don't know .. ." Natasha laughed at the joke and pretended to think about it. "But we can find out." A devilish grin appeared on Natasha's face as she rubbed Lady Witch's entire bottom, side to side, even the crease, before playfully patting one buttock and announcing. "Nay, there is not a tail, but me thinks I will have to examine the situation more thoroughly … in private...without these cumbersome garments."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>More laughter and guffaws resounding around the redhead, followed by ribald remarks on exactly how she might proceed in that regard, there were even those guys who offered to fulfill that task.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda gasped and gritted her teeth. If the blood were not rushing to her head, she would have told to Natasha what she thought of her outrageous suggestion and her comrade’s crudity. Instead, Wanda took a good bite out of Natasha’s shoulder and would not let go.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"OUCH!!!" Natasha's howl of pain echoed throughout the courtyard before her knees buckled at the surprising attack. Natasha tripped forward, causing Wanda to go with her. Wanda closed her eyes as she landed on her back, her bound hands raised overhead, her legs spread wide, with the hem of her gunna hiked robe knee-high and the red-haired Viking troll on top of her, with her face planted in her belly... laughing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"How... dare... you? Get away from me!" Wanda exclaimed, not sure if she was outraged by her position atop her or by her laughter. She lowered her bound hands and grasped a hunk of red curls, forcing her head off her stomach so Wanda could address the loath directly. “You are a …” Wanda stop for a while and forgot her anger, when she saw the face of her kidnapper. Natasha’s nose was still bleeding. A bruise just above her right eye was beginning to swell and turn the socket black and purple. A bit of dirt shadowed her face, and green eyes glistened in the sun's rays. Her wild red curls were sticking out in all directions. The red locks are so soft where Wanda still grasped it. Despite all that, the insufferable Viking woman was extremely gorgeous.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Aware of her actions, Wanda released the red curls as if it had suddenly caught fire and burned her palm. Hearing a chuckle, she peered up and noticed all the faces staring down at them ... some in wonder, like Lady Betty and her husband Bruce. Some with amusement, like Bucky and the Viking soldiers; and some others with contemplation, like Clint , who was mumbling something about sagas and poems and witchly tales... or was it tails?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda groaned, then and groaned again as Natasha raised herself on her elbows, still laughing, and adjusted her body against her. Sudden Natasha’s laughter stopped immediately.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Oh my..." Wanda's eyes went huge with amazement at the hard object prodding betwixt her legs. It was unlike any of the limp threads she'd experienced in her three mates. More like the whole bloody spindle. Natasha groaned too .. but her was a low femenine sound.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"My Lady, are you in pain?" asked Clint, reaching over to help Natasha.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha shook her head, apparently unable to speak through her silent giggles. When she was a child, her father used to say "There are only two things to light a Viking's loins. A good battle and a woman." Natasha thought to herself how right her father was. Excitement bathed her entire body, igniting her skin like an intense flame. Lady Wanda's scent only worsened her state.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Natasha! Nat, are you hurt?" Lord Bruce asked worriedly, appearing at Clint's side. "Shall we send for the healer from the hospitium? Or our sister Pepper?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha bit her lips and shook her head harder. "Ah." Clint understood what happened with his leader. " Is it the witch." Natasha nodded, refusing to lift her face until she could control the blush over her face.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What?! What did you say!!!" A witch?! A witch?!" Lady Betty squealed with horror, covering her mouth, staring at the young girl.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Yea, the witch with the Virgin's Veil." said Clint to Lady Betty and pointed to the young girl under Natasha's body. "Lady Wanda is a witch."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"C'mon boys. Don't scare my wife." Bruce let out a snort of disbelief. "There is no such thing.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Hah! You would not say that if you were King Aksel!" interjected Bucky, crossing his arms over his broad chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>'King Aksel? Our cousin Aksel?" Lord Bruce seemed genuinely confused. "What has he to do with witchcraft?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What has he got to do with witchcraft?" Betty asked with eyes as she hugged Bruce.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"This witch." said Bucky, pointing to Lady Wanda on the floor. "She put a spell on King Aksel."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"A spell!" asked a dumbly Lord Bruce, not believing the gibberish Bucky was sdumbl to him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Yea, a spell that made his root take a right turn" explained Bucky and mimicked the twisting of the root with his index finger.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What?!" Lord Bruce and Lady Betty exchanged a look, then burst out laughing, as did all the Viking soldiers and lookers-on who'd gathered at the outlandish scene. The only ones not participating in the mirth were Bucky and Clint, who were chagrined at the lack of belief in their tale.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda and Natasha weren't laughing either. The women were locked in their own world, away from the loudly laughters.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha held her gaze the whole time, until she finally whispered in a low, seductive voice, as she insinuating herself more intimately against the cradle of her hips. "I think … I am bewitched.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bucky must have overheard because he commented. "Oh-ho! She must be a witch, for never would you be attracted to such a pig-ugly wench.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"James! For shame." Lady Betty chastised, causing Bucky to jump and tense up like a small child.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wanda was barely aware of all the conversations swirling around her. All she could do was gaze back at Natasha, unable to break eye contact. New, unbelievable sensations swept her body. They were horrible, horrible, horrible. And so wonderful she could scarcely breathe. How stupid she was to feel this way.</p><p> </p><p><em>I am the one bewitched</em>, she admitted to herself then. And this time when she prayed silently, the well-known Anglo-Saxon prayer took on a new format: "Oh, Lord, from the passion of a redhead Viking, please protect me.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Freyja Seid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I still say we should ride to Tony and Pepper’s estate and tell them of Peter’s plight." said Bruce once again, scratching his chin . He had been saying the same thing for the last hour, over and over again.</p><p> </p><p>"Nah, Nah." Natasha insisted, denying that possibility. Her fingertips played with the threads of her thin robe as she said. " “You know they would overreact and demand to come with me. They have enough to worry about with the orphanage, Pepper’s hospitium and their four children, not to mention her being with child again. Besides, Peter will be safe at Aksel’s court till I arrive… just restricted a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>They both smiled at the image of Peter being restricted. Ever since he’d been a wild youthling, rescued from the Jorvik streets with his sister Gwen, no one had been able to hold Peter down. Natasha looked forward to seeing just how Aksel had managed to confine the boy who’d traveled to many foreign lands, despite his young years, in his quest to become a healer, like Pepper.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha was sitting with his brother on the stone steps of the king’s personal steam house in the palace gardens, now brown and dormant with the coming winter. A young male house servant lifted a heavy wooden bucket of water and tossed it onto the red-hot rocks, causing more steam to issue forth. Soon she would be washing off her perspiration in the icy waters of the adjoining bathhouse, where Omegas female thralls would assist her in wash her hair and moisturize her skin and donning clean garments.</p><p> </p><p>Vikings did like their personal comforts, cleanliness being one of them. It was why so many Omegas in so many lands fell at their feet and into their bed furs, in Natasha’s opinion. Oh, she and her fellow Viking companions liked to boast of their great looks and superior talents in the bedding, but she suspected that offtimes it just boiled down to their smelling a mite less than other Alphas.</p><p> </p><p>"But why involve the witch?" asked Bruce with confusion.</p><p> </p><p>"He asked for a witch in exchange for Peter." Natasha shrugged. "At the time, it seemed the expedient thing to do, since I was coming to Northumbria anyhow. You know I could have gained Peter’s release, but it would have involved much coin or fighting. If I'd known then of the excessive delays I would encounter, I never would have bothered."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"But to kidnap a lady of high station, Nat? Really, 'tis pushing the bounds of propriety, even for you." Bruce scoffed and took a sip of mead.</p><p> </p><p>"A witch of high station." Natasha corrected and took a long sip of mead from the goblet next to her. She licked her lips enjoying the taste before giving her older brother a playful smile. "And since wjen have I claimed to be proper."</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, you know, Betty will try her best at matchmaking." Bruce scratched the back of his neck and commented sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p> Natasha choked a little on her mead and coughed before saying. "With a witch?" she looked at Bruce and her throat went dry when she noticed Bruce's amused expression.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, can you blame her?” Bruce shrugged and laughed. "All her best efforts with every other Omega have come to naught."</p><p> </p><p>Natasha was going to reply "You're kidding right?” she let out a laugh at that implication. Just then, one of the female thralls walked in, carrying a pile of linen towels. She was blond and buxom, and Natasha wasn't certain, but she thought she knew her. In truth, she might have bedded her once or twice in the past. The woman did a little curtsy and gazed at her shyly.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha couldn't help but flirt with the young thrall and winked, it was so satisfying when the young blonde blushed and lowered her face.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Thor!." Bruce made a grunting sound of disgust and shook his head. The man coughed uncomfortably at the situation and better asked. "I think you should come back to Ravenshire with us for the winter”</p><p> </p><p>Natasha shook her head, but her attention was focused on the young blonde who was bending over pick up some items of dirty clothing she had tossed on the ground. Her backside was in the air. Oh, yep, Natasha recognized the young blonde now. Natasha would recognize that sweet bottom from a distance.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce frowned. "Why not?" Her little sister was a stubborn, he just wished he could spend some time with her, but first he would have to convince hee little sister. Which would be difficult task. Natasha is distractedly devouring the female thrall with her gaze. Natie is still the same incorrigible wild little girl thought Bruce with brotherly affection.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> “Why not what?” Natasha snapped out of her distraction lapse and turned back to her brother, who was grinning in a knowing fashion and shaking his head at his obvious distraction. “Oh… you mean, why not return to Northumbria? I might have if I’d gathered the witch sennights ago, as I’d planned. Now, there will be no time left, even if I make haste, to get to Hedeby, then Aksel’s court, then my home for the winter.”</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, I understand. Just promise me you'll visit us soon." Bruce stood up and looked at his sister, who nodded and said giving him a bright smile. "I promise you, Big guy."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Before leaving and giving Natasha some privacy. Bruce pressed a hand against her thigh with concern. "Ah, Natasha, is your leg bothering you overmuch?"</p><p> </p><p>"Just in the winter. That's why I prefer to be snug in my own homestead." Natasha said with a smile and gave Bruce's hand a squeeze. "Then, too, I want to go to the Baltic Lands come spring for the first amber harvest of the season."</p><p> </p><p>"I worry about you, Natasha. I have not always been there with you when you needed me. I would make up for past mistakes."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey! Do not concern yourself over me, brother.” Natasha ran a hand over her hair before rising and escorting Bruce to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I wish to take a hot bath now."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Fine!" Bruce commented unconformably, before getting up to leave the room. "We haven’t finished our talk." Before leaving, Bruce turned to look at his little sister. " What will you do with the witch?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, don't worry, Bruce." Natasha gave him a coarse and explicit two-word answer before closing the door. But she didn’t mean it. Really.</p><p> </p><p>With her back pressed against the large wooden door, Natasha smiled innocently at the young trall. "And now, we're both alone." She took a few steps as she unbuttoned her tunic. "I think we should honor Freyja." With the last word leaving her mouth, Natasha let the soft tunic slip from her shoulders, standing naked before the young blonde who still stood there, staring at her with mouth open. "Do you want to ride me?"</p><p> </p><p>The blushing young blonde girl let out a moan of surprise as Natasha hold her in her arms and began to strip her clothes and led her to the steamy bath. Natasha planned to do many fun and pleasurable things with her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"She's a terrible, rude woman. I hate her."</p><p> </p><p>"Natasha is really not a bad sort at all." insisted Betty as she poured a pail of clean water over Wanda's soap-lathered hair. The unruly brown strands hung down to her waist when unbond. Betty had insisted that Wanda call her by her given name several hours past, when they'd left the company of the women and men back at the palace, excepting for Clint , who stood guard downstairs. Natasha and her brother had spoke of a visit to the bathhouse at the palace, where Natasha steam off the dirt and grime of "battle". And regale with overblown tales of conquest in the little skirmish she just ended.</p><p> </p><p>"In fact, Natasha is one of the most charming alphas I've ever met." Betty laughed softly. "And that includes my husband, Bruce , who can be the most...ah, persuasive, when he wants to be." Betty flashed Wanda a secretive smile, as if Wanda could understand perfectly. Hah! No Alpha had ever exerted himself to be charming to Wanda. Certainly not her three aged husbands, who'd believe they were doing her a favor by marrying her. As to that other assertion … Wanda snorted her opinion of Natasha being proclaimed the most charming alpha in Betty acquaintance. Betty must live in a nunnery..</p><p> </p><p>"Natasha is a troll." Wanda contended as she parted the wet swaths of her hair to peer up at the woman with disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, of course. All Alphas are troll’s betimes.” Undaunted, Betty countered.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda couldn’t be concerned about Natasha, or the other Vikings, or her captivity right now. She was taking too much pleasure in her first bath in over a week too. Sitting in a copper tub, she sighed at the joy of mere soap and water in her skin.</p><p> </p><p> They were in the second-floor bedchamber of Angie, an elderly Viking widow who was a longtime friend of the Romanovson family. As Wanda bathed, Angie sat in a straight-backed chair, working a hand loom and listening intently to Betty’s palace gossip.</p><p> </p><p>"I can scarce believe that Ivan is king once again." Angie commented, her fingers waving the various colored threads into an intricate Norse pattern. "He's like a pesky fly that keeps coming back, no matter how often swatted away. I have no love of Saxons, of course." Said the old woman, casting an apologetic glance at Wanda. "But he has been a thorn in the side of King Edred off and on for years now. I wish he would either leave or manage to stay in power here in Northumbria.”</p><p> </p><p>"King Ivan is Uncle to my husband and Natasha, but a more ruthless man I have never met." Betty explained to Wanda, who was lathering up her hair again.</p><p> </p><p>"Even when they were babes, their father, Alexei, could not acknowledge them to fear Ivan would come after them." added Angie. "That's the reason they lived with me and my Peggy for many of the years of their youth, apart from their beloved father, who went off Jomsviking to protect them. Orphans, they were, for all purposes, even with livin kin.”</p><p> </p><p>Wanda frowned and paused her hair washing. "I don't understand. How could the father's abandonment protect the son and daughter?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah! You do not know how Ivan the King got his name and position then.” Betty declared and glanced toward Angie. Both shook their heads in disgust. "King Harald "Fair Hair" Harald, one of the most powerful rulers in Norway, was the father of dozen of sons and daughters alike by his numerous wives and mistresses. He practiced the more danico. Ivan was ruthless from an early age in his pursuit of his father's crown. It is a fact that many of his brothers died under his blade to feed that ambition. Thus the name Ivan Bloodaxe.”</p><p> </p><p>"And Natasha and Bruce's father. Alexei, methinks you called him … how did he fit into the story?" Wanda asked, turned and glanced at both women.</p><p> </p><p>"Alexei never had any interest in a kingship, and he was illegitimate, besides. But though Ivan’s blood was legitimate, he was hated by the Norse people for his cruelty.” Betty said. “There was the unfounded fear on Ivan’s part that while Alexei disdained a crown, his children might not.</p><p> </p><p>"And so Alexei pretended at first that he had no child, abandoning the babes to the care of others. They were forbidden to call him father, and never did he give them a warm word or gesture of affection. Some time later, when word got out that the were indeed his children, Alexei was forced to pretend an indifference." Angie clicked her tongue as her eyes clouded over with unpleasant memories. "And his overprotection was warranted. There was a time... I remember it well... an evil Viking villain, Ivar 'the Terrible', chopped off Bruce's little finger and sent it to Ravenshire in a parchment, all to lure Alexei to his death. Which was the final result, in the end. Death. Both Alexei's and my wife’s, Peggy."</p><p> </p><p>Betty reached over and patted Angie’s quaking shoulders to comfort her. "Odin bless both and may their souls rest for eternity in Valhalla."</p><p> </p><p>"And ... And how about their mothers?" Wanda was trying to break the grimness that had overtaken their conversation. She didn’t want to bring back more painful memories to Lady Angie.</p><p> </p><p>"Alessia, a Saxon thrall, was Bruce's mother . She died in birthing." answered Angie as she wiped away a tear from her cheek. "But Natasha ... well, her mother, Melina, was a Viking princess who abandoned the little girl when she was still in swaddling clothes. Alexei offered to marry her, but she sought a nobler marriage, and never once wanted to see her daughter over the years."</p><p> </p><p>All the women exchanged appalled looks at that unnatural behavior for a mother. Especially, Wanda, who inevitably got a lump in her throat. It seems that she is not the first and last abandoned child in this world.</p><p>“Yes. That was very sad. Bruce and Nat were such lonely children. Bruce was a shy Beta while Nat was an aggressive and reckless Alpha puppy.” Angie continued and exhaled heavily before continuing. “They were both raised here in Jorvik by me and Peggy, then at Ravenshire by Dottie, their grandmother, till her death. But I think Natasha suffered most, being the youngest. I remember how the little girl would ask every woman she encountered in the street “Are you my mother?” Angie murmured sadly. Betty and Wanda remained completely silent as Angie continued. “ It was heartwrenching, I tell you. Natie was left alone when she was only eight and Bruce eleven when Bruce went off to foster in King Athelstan's Saxon court. Bruce was only half-Viking, you recall, but Natasha pure Viking to the core. I remember how she proclaim, even when she was too small to lift a mighty sword, that someday she would be a Jomsviking, too … just she could stand beside her father Alexei. Then, her father died later that year, when she was eight winters, and Bruce was off a-fostering. And finally, her stepmother, Inar, disappeared in a mysterious fashion … without saying goodbye.”</p><p> </p><p>“Angie.” Betty murmured, feeling suddenly curious. “ Do you think that is why Natasha has refused to settle in one place all these years? Why she never wed?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my little girl. I am certain of it.” Angie said with an emphatic nod and a soft smile adorning her lips. “Natie was rejected or abandoned by everyone she ever loved. So she protects herself from hurt by never caring deeply for anyone. Even her own brother, Bruce, whom she visits only on rare ocassions.”</p><p> </p><p>Wanda felt her heart break in two at devastating and poignant story, at least the melancholy feeling lasted until a new realization hit her. “Oh no. No! Oh, this is too much. You two are trying to turn my anger away from that redheaded troll by playing on my sympathies. The woman has seen thirty-five winters, and if she fails to care about anyone but herself, it’s because he’s a selfish troll. Nothing more … nothing less.”</p><p> </p><p>Angie and Betty surprised at the frankness in those words, just stared at the young girl without say a word. Only then did they look at each other and share a soft smile. “Do you think…?” Betty leaned toward Angie with a slight smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. Maybe” Angie laughed merrily and nodded in response, looking at the young girl in the copper tub. “In a world of trolls, nothing is impossible my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time, Wanda wished she was a real witch and could read the minds of those women who looked at her in the weirdest possible way.</p><p> </p><p>“Here, my dear.” Betty smiled radiantly and handed Wanda a small soap stone container filled with a rose-scented cream. “Your hair is just like mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Wanda surveyed Betty’s silken locks and laughed. That woman must be blind. Her hair was wavy and unmanageable. Wanda rejected the small container.</p><p> </p><p>“curly and unmanageable.” Betty interrupted the girl, placing the container in Lady Wanda’s hands. “I have developed a wonderful concoction for the hair that tames even the wildest locks. Come on, use it!”</p><p> </p><p>Wanda was skeptical, though the cream did smell wonderful. She usually didn’t indulge in such vanities, but maybe just this once she deserved to enjoy. “Can I ask you a question?” As she worked the delicious substance into her long strands, Betty addressed Wanda once again. “Is it true that you are a witch?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I look like a witch?” Wanda scoffed, then immediately regretted her words as the eyes of both women traveled over her freckled body. She was aware of that old wives'tale about freckles being the devil’s spittle, and apparently so were they.</p><p> </p><p>“It is well known fact that a witch cannot be discerned by outward aspects. Take Ivan Romanovson's wife, Agatha, for example.” Betty said, as she rinsed the lotion out of Wanda’s hair and motioned for her to stand so she could comb out the tangles in wet strands. “Yeah, Agatha, the sister of King Harlad Gormsson of Denmark, studied witchcraft in her early day in Finnmark, and a more beautiful woman there never was. At least from outward appearances. That said Ivan rescued her from a most bizarre witchly voyage into the White Sea and over the years has gained strength from her powers.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"There are good witches and bad witches, of course." Angie stopped her weaving for a moment and stared at Wanda, attempting to determine in which category she fell.</p><p> </p><p>"I am not witch." Wanda said again, but neither of the women paid her any heed.</p><p> </p><p>"You must talk with Agatha this eve when we sup at the palace." Betty offered" Maybe you can share potions and such in the midst of the feast."</p><p> </p><p>"Me? Me?" stammered Wanda awkwardly. "Why would I be asked to participate in some Viking feast?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Because you ate Natasha's captive, dear." Betty declared, as if that was a normal thing to be. "And you must remain under guard at all times. Natasha insists. Natasha wouldn't want Clint or Bucky or any of her men to miss this feast tonight by staying behind to guard you." Betty glanced at Wanda reprovingly, obviously deeming her a most selfish girl to think otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>"I am not a witch." Wanda repeated again, then exhaled with exasperation as she clenched her fists under water. Really, it was like talking to a wall trying to convince people of her innocence. "Do you even know what this is all about? Do you have any idea what they think I have done?"</p><p> </p><p>Angie just shook her head slowly and Betty said hesitantly. "Um, Well, I know what Bucky said at the palace, but I can hardly credit ...tell us your version, dear." Betty waved her hand to let Wanda explain her situation.</p><p> </p><p>When Wanda explained, their mouths gaped with amazement. It seems King Aksel’s story and his crooked root leaves the same expression on all are unfortunate to hear that story.</p><p> </p><p>"The king's root did what? "Betty asked with a choked voice, her hands stopped moving in Lady Wanda's hair.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, Timed right, apparently." Wanda answered dryly.</p><p> </p><p>"Wow! Um... And you put a spell on him to make it do such?" Angie grinned, rather impressed by this young witch's feat. "If you don't mind, there are a few alphas I wouldn't mind afflicting so."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Holy Freyja!" Betty grinned mischievously." Can you teach me the spell?"</p><p> </p><p>"I am not a witch! I keep trying to tell you, it’s what they accuse me of, but it's not true." Wanda gritted her teeth and pounded the water with her fists.</p><p> </p><p>The women just laughed and remained unconvinced. "You know, my dear. I remember... "Angie said, tapping her pressed lips pensively with a forefinger "It seems to me that I have heard of this malady afore on Alpha’s private parts ofttimes it is caused by an injury that scars over and forces the staff to go crooked. The few cases I've heard of eventually corrected themselves.”</p><p> </p><p>"So all King Aksel needs to cure himself is time?" asked Betty hopefully, changing her gaze between Lady Angie and Lady Wanda.</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe." Angie touched her chin pensively and looked pointedly at Wanda. "Lest the crooked root is caused by a witch's curse, of course.</p><p> </p><p>"I am not a witch. Why won’t anyone believe me?" Wanda murmured as she hugged her knees to her breasts, feeling like weeping out of frustration. No one seemed to listen or even understand.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know dear. Your reprehensible actions make us suspicious. What of the bowel spell you put on Natasha? Surely you cannot deny that." Betty crossed her arms over her chest and nodded he head, as if she’d just won some point of arguments.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, no, but..." Wanda was going to object and defend herself.</p><p> </p><p>"Aha!" said Betty and Angie at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>"But it was a mere herb that grows ..." Wanda quickly retorted.</p><p> </p><p>"A poison?" Betty lashed out harshly. " You gave Natasha a bane drink? That is as bad as a witchly potion, Wanda. I could kill you myself for that."</p><p> </p><p>"No! It wasn't a deadly potion..." Wanda started to justify herself only to give up. Her words would not be welcome on deaf ears. "Oh, what’s the use? No one believes me anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>"Betty!" a loud male voice rang out from downstairs. "Where are you?"</p><p> </p><p>Betty shuddered and Angie gathered her weaving items, preparing to leave the room. "Oh, that brute! He knows I hate it when he yells for me like a cow in the field."</p><p> </p><p>"Betty!" her husband shouted once again. "Where are you? I have something to show you."</p><p> </p><p>Betty's face turned bright red. "Uh, I have seen it more than enough times, believe me." She informed Wanda with a wink. Wanda felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Here ... "Betty said, handing her a towel. "Better dry yourself afore my husband comes blundering in here."</p><p> </p><p>Both Betty and Angie left the room, giggling. Through the closed door, Wanda could swear she heard Lord Bruce say, “Betty, I dropped honey on the front of my braies back at the castle. Can you think of any way I can remove it?” Betty said something that Wanda could not overhear, but Bruce let loose with a low growl of pleasure at whatever it was.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda with a smile on her lips, decided that Betty needed no lessons at all from a witch.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Natasha leaned against the doorjamb of Angie’s house and watched with amusement as her brother greeted his wife with a pat on the butt and a deep, noisy kiss. Seven years they had been wed, and still they acted as lovestruck youthlings. Three children they’d had together Thorkel, Ragnor, and Freydis-and three others they’d brought into the marriage betwixt them … Betty’s John, and Bruce’s Larise and Emma.</p><p> </p><p>Ravenshire rang with the joyous sounds of children of all ages, and yet these two behaved as children themselves.</p><p> </p><p>There was a Norse legend about a golden apple and how adventurers searched for this treasure a lifetime and more, across many lands, risking life and family. The moral of the tale was that often the precious fruit was growing in one’s own orchard.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce found that precious golden apple. Natasha was happy and pleased for her brother, truly she was. There weren’t many women or men fortunate enough to find a lifemate who was steadfast and loving. She never had. As Natasha contemplated the lovely interaction between those lovers, she thought about how she never was one of those lucky souls to find that precious golden apple. Natasha lowered her face at exhaled when Clint’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you left any mead for me back at the castle?” Clint asked as he passed by her through the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I did. Not as good as Betty’s home-brewed ale , but sufficient to you. There is Frisian wine as well.” Natasha raised her eyebrows and smiled. “And Bucky discovered a group of young thralls bought from a Nubian slave trader. He said for the price of a gold coin, one of them has a surprise for him.” Natasha jiggled and raised her eyebrows meaningfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! That bastard will have a lot of fun all night with the dozens of gold coins he owns.” Clint chuckled. He hesitated a moment and then added with a soft smile. “I’m going to sleep in my place, I’m tired. But if you need me I can stay here and drink some mead with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’m fine, birdbrain. Go to sleep and get some rest. “Natasha patted him on the back and smiled. Clint just laughed and ran his hand through Natasha’s red curls. “I’ll see you aboard at dawn when we set sail.”</p><p> </p><p>Then Bruce and Betty came after Clint. “We have decided to dine with the king, then come back here to sleep tonight.” Bruce informed her. “Betty has not inclination to sleep under our uncle’s roof. Nor do I.”</p><p> </p><p>Natasha nodded and said in a flat voice. “I can’t blame you, big guy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you come with us?”</p><p> </p><p>“You go ahead. I wouldst get the witch first.” Natasha pointed upstairs.</p><p> </p><p>“Why not leave here tonight?“ Betty suggested, leaning against Bruce’s side.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha shook her head. “Nah, the witch does not leave my sight till we are asea. Even then, I cannot be sure she will not put a curse on my ship if I do not watch her closely.”</p><p> </p><p>“But …” Betty begam to protest, but Bruce gave her hand a gentle squeeze on her arm. “Leave be, Betty. That’s Natasha’s concern, not ours.”</p><p> </p><p>They left then, and Natasha waved aside Angie’s tsk-ing reprimand when shee took the steps two at a time, attempting to locate Wanda. The night was wasting, and she had much mead to imbibe afore dawn.</p><p> </p><p>“Wanda, where are you, witch?” Natasha called out, at the same time she opened a bedchamber door. “It’s time … to … to … to …”</p><p> </p><p>Her voice trailed off, becoming a faint murmur, at the fantastic vision in front of her eyes, greeting her. A beautiful woman was standing knee-deep in a hip bath. Her arms were raised overhead, pushing long strands of wet, brown-colored hair off her beautiful face. The sleek tresses hung in a silky swath down her back practically to her buttocks, which were round, soft and really enticing. Natasha’s throat went dry as her heart thudded to the floor at the goddess in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>With a start, the woman turned quickly, arms still upraised, and regarded her shock with her own. Time froze for a brief moment as neither of them moved or said anything.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha just let her eyes drink the beautiful scenery, her nostrils filled with Omega’s sweet scent. It mattered not that the creamy skin was covered with tiny freckles from her chest to knees, and probably down to feet under the murky waters. Wanda’s body was spectacular. Large, soft, high, firm breasts with big raspberry tips. A slender waist and curve sensual hips. Long, shapely legs joined by a thatch of clear brown curls dewed with droplets of water. In all, a perfectly proportioned body that would put even the most beautiful goddess to shame. Natasha closed her mouth and thought … My very own witch goddess. She felt as if Thor himself hit her with a mighty thunderbolt when she understood the stupidity that crossed her mind …</p><p> </p><p><em>“Bloody hell! When did I start thinking of her as mine?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The witch blinked at her through green cat eyes, as if she was held in the same spell that immobilized her. Mere seconds had passed since she’d opened the door, but it seemed like a hellish eternity. Only then did she admit what she’d already come to suspect earlier. Natasha was bewitched. And she didn’t care.</p><p> </p><p>Nor did Natasha care when a stone container with rose cream impacted her face.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>• Sandra's Hill - The Bewitched Viking (alligatorfuckhose afterdark reconstruction)</p><p> </p><p>• If you are interested in Miss Sandra Hill's book, get your copy right here. https://m.barnesandnoble.com/w/bewitched-viking-sandra-hill/1102006720</p></blockquote></div></div>
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